A Chance at Humanity
by Xiamin
Summary: Since Loki's Invasion, the UN Consensus has decided they need an inside eye to make sure S.H.I.E.L.D. is doing their will, and appointed a therapist to the unit. Dr. Lucie Reyes was greeted with a cold shoulder from all except Steve Rogers, though another man, Bruce Banner, quickly becomes interested. A series of "drabbles" for the most part can be read in any order!
1. First Shot

The thunder rumbled overhead as the rain continued to fall softly, weighing down her soft hair as she waited for the man she had come to call friend to wake up. She'd draped her coat over him, not minding a little drizzle. But she had to admit; it wasn't how she'd expected to spend her birthday.

Her brother and father had gone to her place earlier in the day with balloons and a cake. She'd still found it weird how much her brother had grown. She still thought of him as the little boy she'd finally gotten to know when she was in high school; now he was finishing college and engaged. They'd left early in the afternoon (it was a long ride home) and she'd returned to her peaceful, quiet life. That's not to say she didn't enjoy her family, she did, but she'd never been one to make a big deal of her birthday and she enjoyed her solitude on a rainy day. She'd stripped down to an oversized t-shirt, made some tea, grabbed a book, and curled up with Eri, her cat, at her feet, listening to the soft, steady beat of raindrops.

That lasted about twenty minutes until Stark pounded on her door, making her jump and spill her cooled tea on her shirt.

Somehow, things took a turn for the worse, and now she was here in the old part of New York while the all-famous Ironman helped the city clean up.

Lucie sneezed, finally feeling the effect of the rain. She stood up from the fallen column, slipping on some loose cobblestone as she made her way to Banner. She nudged his arm while brushing back his dampened hair from his forehead.

"Bruce," she sang quietly. "Wakey-wakey, Mr. Banner."

He inhaled sharply, letting her know she broke through his slumber. Smiling to her self, she sat back on her heels as he opened his brown eyes and turned to look at her. "I'm kind of cold and you took my only coat, so I'd appreciate it if we could head home."

He smiled at her. "But home means different things to us."

She rolled her eyes and closed them, giving him the 'okay' to get up and put on the coat properly. When he was done, he took her hand from her lap and pulled her up.

She opened her eyes and they made their way out of the half-destroyed alley in silence. She stuck her hands in her pockets, trying to defrost them from the cold rain, and took a breath. "So you know we have to talk about this, right? What happened back there?"

He shrugged. "I'm not really sure at the moment."

"I can tell when you're lying, that's my job you know," she pressed.

A pause. "It's your birthday, why don't you take the day off?"

A short laugh. "Everything has been quiet for god knows how long so everyday as of late has been a 'day off.' So we're talking about this."

They turned a corner and started looking for a cab. "Well," he started. "It was a mix of things-"

"Give me something I don't know, Banner," she said, knowing he was avoiding the root of the problem.

"Well Tony, you know Tony…" he hesitated. He still wasn't comfortable talking to her about these occurrences. If it were anything else, sure he'd talk. But he was still embarrassed about the hulk.

"At least as well as you do at this point, but you've never let him bother you that much. So next." This was how she was with Bruce. Very 'get to the point,' because he avoided it if she wasn't.

A cab pulled over next to them. He opened the door and she stepped in before he closed it and got in on the other side. "Stark Tower," he said as the cab started moving. "And would you mind turning on the heater? We've been in the rain for awhile."

"Bruce…"

"What? No clipboard or anything?" he asked.

"Bruce."

"Alright, alright, I'll talk."

"Thank you." She smirked and waited.

"Remember what I told you in our last session a few weeks ago?"

She frowned. "Well you told me a lot so…"

He smiled. "That's true, I think I had a little too much to drink that night."

She scrunched her face up playfully. "Mm I think that's more of a perspective."


	2. Haircut

The parlor was filled with the usual buzz of a hair salon; clients complaining about their social life, stylists drowning them out with the blow dryers, the music on a loop of the 'big hits' of the month. Yet Lucie couldn't really be bothered as she flipped through the hair magazine on her lap while her stylist prepped her hair for cutting.

The jingle of the bell at the door made her look up. She heard the annoyed sigh behind her from her stylist but ignored it; Bruce had just walked in with a bag of something. He handed it to the lady behind the reception desk, saying something that Lucie couldn't here. The woman laughed, and Lucie quickly went back to her magazine, feeling like she was invading something private. 'Though as his therapist…' she pushed the thought from her mind and flipped to the shorter cuts.

Not a minute later a pair of brown shoes stepped into her view over the magazine.

"Not to interfere with a life-changing decision, but I don't think you should go so short," Bruce's voice said.

Lucie looked up, putting on a blank face. "Bruce, what are you doing here?" she asked a smiling Bruce.

"What? No hello?"

She smiled. "I'm sorry but I believe you're the one who ought to say hello first. After all, you approached me, not the other way around."

"Why hello, Lucie," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I'm here delivering something for Pepper since Tony needed her for something. What are you doing here?"

"Well, obviously I'm having my hair done," she said, smiling politely.

"Oh I see," he said with a nod, which she returned with her own. "May I?" he asked, reaching for the magazine still open on her lap. She raised it to him and he took it, flipping to somewhere near the beginning of the book before handing it back. "I suggest this one."

She looked down at the picture he pointed at then looked up, confused. "But this is almost exactly what I have now.

He smiled. "That's because I like what you have now. You have the face for it."

She laughed once, sarcastically. "You mean to say I don't have the face for short hair?"

His smile was replaced with a look of shock. "No that's not what I meant, I'm sure your face would look fine with short hair."

"But…?" she pressed.

"But I like it now…?" he asked, unsure if he was saying the right thing.

She laughed again, for real this time. "You have a way with compliments, Mr. Banner. I'm sure you're a real ladies man," she said, looking back at the magazine.

"Right…" he muttered, rubbing his head. "Well, enjoy your haircut, Ms. Reyes," he said.

She looked up, her turn to be shocked. "Reyes?"

"That's your last name, isn't it?" he asked.

"Well, yes, but…" her eyes drifted, not really sure why there would be a problem.

"But…?"

She looked back at him. "But nothing. Have a nice day, Mr. Banner. Until next time."

"Yeah, see ya," he said before turning to leave.

Lucie jumped at the sound of the bell jingle again, but didn't look up. The stylist asked if she had decided on a cut yet, and after a moment's hesitation, she showed her the longer style Bruce had pointed out.


	3. Goodnight

The pair walked with a light step for once as the snow fell lightly around them.

"We should do this again sometime," Bruce suggested as they came down from a round of laughs.

"Yeah, I guess so," Lucie agreed.

"You guess?" Bruce questioned, raising an eyebrow yet smiling.

"Well yeah, I mean, I'm still your therapist so we have to be careful not to put ourselves in any…" She hesitated as she chose her words carefully.

"Any…?"

"Any compromising situations," she said, giving herself a mental pat on the back.

He laughed, looking up at the city before returning his eyes to her. "You make it sound as if we were sleeping together."

Her blue eyes widened in shock and she tore them away from his gaze. "No that's not what I meant at all, I just don't want anything developing here that could…"

"That could what?" he pressed.

"That could…" she cocked her head, quickly running through words in her head. "That hinders the efficiency of our sessions," she said, smiling up at him.

He stared at her, in thought with a smile on his face.

"What?" she asked, her own smile faltering as she brushed her hair back with her fingers.

"No, nothing," he said, as they rounded the corner onto her street. "I just think we're a little past that, that's all."

She frowned at him. "Nonsense, a therapist can be a friend to their clients. As long as they weren't friends before, I'm sure it wouldn't make a difference. In fact, it makes some people open up more if they feel they're friends," she said, her stride and voice changing from the light, airy one of earlier in the night to a more sturdy one.

"And here we go again," he muttered, making her stop, mid-step. "What?" he asked, turning to her.

"I'm sorry, the deal was fun tonight," she said, catching up with him again and shaking her head to herself. "I meant 'Of course because we're friends, but…'" She frowned again. "Yeah I give up Bruce. We're friends, kay?" she said with a smile.

"Sure, sure," he said as they turned up the walkway to her building. They entered in silence and Lucie called for the elevator.

"So…did I kill the mood?" Lucie asked as they waited.

Bruce gave her a small smile. "I'm still having fun," he said, making her smile.

"You're so full of bullshit sometimes. But it's appreciated."

He tilted his head in confusion. "You're welcome…?"

The elevator bell rang and she stepped inside. She turned to face him; "So, this is the part where we say goodnight, right?" she asked.

"Goodnight, Lucie," he confirmed.

"Goodnight, Bruce," she said as the elevator doors closed, leaving Bruce in the hall. "Man I really suck," she muttered to herself, but smiled as she replayed the night in her head on her way up.


	4. Heat Wave

The cool wind tickled Lucie's bare skin as she leaned against a rail-wall on the roof of Stark Tower. The whole gang had gathered for the day to escape the heat wave, but Lucie still wasn't completely at home with everyone, so she escaped to the roof once the sun set. It was still hot, but with the sun gone the wind made the heat bearable.

After awhile of being alone, Clint came to ask her to come back in, holding a half-eaten hot dog. She politely declined and went back to stargazing, listening to the irritated honks of the city below, though all the way up there, everything sounded distant.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hesitant steps approaching her; she turned around to find Bruce holding two tall, icy glasses of some reddish beverage, topped with those dumb umbrellas Tony had insisted on all day.

"What's up?" she asked with a smile.

"Pepper sent some drinks," he answered, setting them on the wall. "And Tony sent umbrellas."

"Oh how lovely," she said sarcastically, plucking out one of the umbrellas and tossing it into the city. She watched it fall in silence, not really sure what to say.

"That's littering, you know," Bruce said lightly.

"They can address the fine to 'Mr. Tony Stark' if New York is so bothered by it," she said, taking a sip from the drink closest to her. It was fruity, which almost disgusted her, but it was a light kind of fruity so she could deal.

"You seem off today," he said, leaning onto the wall a few inches from her. "Like you don't want to be part of the party."

She shrugged her shoulders, avoiding eye contact. "It's probably the heat."

"That's unlikely, considering the temperature inside," he countered.

"Well I'm not inside, am I?"

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Mr. Banner, I'm the therapist, not you," she snapped, turning away from the city to face the door back inside.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, then she turned back to lean on the wall. "I'm sorry. I need to relax," she said, taking another sip from her drink. "Does this have alcohol?"

He shrugged. "I know we can't really be friends because of the therapist thing, but if you ever need to vent…" he hesitated and Lucie took the moment to actually look at him for the first time since tossing the umbrella.

"Bruce, no."

"No what?"

"I can't talk to you. Only you can talk to me," she said slowly, emphasizing on the you's and me.

"But that's not how friends wor-"

"You just said you understand we can't be friends," Lucie interrupted, looking him directly in the eye. "I appreciate you being so welcoming to me, but if this is ever going to work we both have to remember to maintain a professional relationship." She looked away, taking another sip.

"But if I'm to trust you enough to talk to you, I want to know more about you," he said.

She looked back to him, frowning in disbelief. "You asshole!"

"Wait, what?" he asked, taken aback.

"You trusted me before so why not now? Are you serious?"

"What happened to professionalism?" he asked, confused.

"Fuck that. Are you really going to tell, me you won't let me do my job because I won't tell you why I feel sad today?" she demanded.

"Um, that wasn't quite what I meant," he said, unsure of himself.

"So what did you mean? Because that sure as hell sounded like it."

"Lucie, are you okay?" he asked again.

She sighed, exasperated, turning again and sliding to the floor to hug her knees. "I don't know."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, sliding down next to her and hugging his own.

"I don't know. No. I don't."

"Okay then, we won't. But would you come back downstairs now?" he asked.

"Maybe after I cool down," she said.

"Well that's never going to happen in this heat."

She stayed silent, staring straight ahead.

"Well, when you decide you're up to it, I'll be downstairs, waiting," he said.

"Doesn't look like it, you're still sitting down."

"Right," he said, standing. "Now I'll be inside. Care to join?" he asked, grabbing his untouched drink.

She sighed again, then stood up. "Sure. Better now than later when everyone will ask." She took her drink and turned to Bruce, who was about to take a drink. "Wait."

"What now?" he asked.

"That umbrella makes you look gay."

"What?"

"I'm serious, but Tony doesn't listen to me." She plucked it out of his drink and tossed it over the wall to chase the other one through the city.

"That's still littering," he complained.

"So they can add that fine to the other one," she said with a smile as she walked towards the door back downstairs.


	5. Pasta

"I thought we were just having pasta." Bruce's eyes swept over the kitchen as he shrugged off his coat.

"We are just having pasta," Lucie said as she took his coat and hung it up by the door.

"So what's with this mess?" The counters were covered with flour and there were pots and and pans spilled everywhere.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

Bruce chuckled. "Well, look who's avoiding the question now." He followed her out of the kitchen into the dining room, where the table was set. Three separate serving bowls of pasta, red sauce, and meatballs sat in the middle of it.

"Fine, I'll set an example," she sighed, putting both hands on her hips. "Mr. Banner, I do not know how to break spaghetti noodles, so I decided to make them myself instead of having noodle bits all over my kitchen."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Uh-huh. Ever thought of buying a different kind of pasta? Like bow-tie or ziti?"

She rolled her eyes. "Duh, but they don't sell organic pasta at the grocery store anyways. It's healthy, just like you like it." She smiled, pleased with herself.

He frowned at her in confusion. "So you went through all this trouble to make organic pasta? You could have bought it at wherever you bought the organic ingredients to make the pasta."

Her smile left her face. "The ingredients have to be organic to make it organic?"

He smiled at her, pulling out a chair for her to sit. "Don't you have a Ph.D or something?"

"In psych not in cooking!" she exclaimed while he took his own seat.

"It's fine, I'm not that picky about how my food is made."

The two served themselves and continued talking.

"So have you ever made your own pasta?" Bruce asked.

She shook her head. "Pasta isn't really my food. I love it but I can't make it, like I said earlier, so I don't eat it unless I go out."

"Oh, sorry, had I known I wouldn't have-"

"Stop it," she interrupted him. "If I wasn't up to it you know I would have said no. And besides, now I know how to make pasta from scratch. How many of you scientists can say you know how to make pasta from scratch?" she asked, twirling some noodles onto her fork.

"Actually when I lived in-" she shot him a look that shut him up. "Tony surely can't."

"See?" She smiled before putting a forkful of pasta in her mouth as Bruce started twirling some on his fork. She abruptly dropped her fork on her plate and stood up.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked, fork halfway to his mouth.

She quickly made her way to the kitchen and spit her pasta into the trash.

"Should I be concerned?" he asked.

Grabbing a napkin from the pantry and wiping her mouth, Lucie returned to the dining room where Bruce had returned his pasta to his plate and scooted slightly away.

"I know I'm so charming you can't resist my food, but for the love of God, please don't eat that," she said, leaning against the wall.

"Well I'm sorry but I kind of lost my love of God after my accident," he said lightly.

"Then for the love of all that is good in the world, don't," she demanded.

"But my dear Lucie, you told me to come here hungy. What ever is the matter?" he played, a smile growing on his lips.

"I put sugar in the pasta…" she mumbled.

"Excuse me?" he said, placing a hand to his ear.

""I put sugar in the pasta, Bruce," she said loudly, "so we're going to eat out. I promised you a dinner so I'm buying."

He laughed. "It can't be that bad," he said, standing up.

"Bruce, have you ever had sugary pasta?" She continued before he can answer, at him grabbing his coat and tossing it at him as she slid her wallet into her pocket. "No, because pasta is not supposed to be sugary."

"Fine, but let me help you clean up before we go so you can come home to a clean house."

She scoffed at him, shaking her head. "Are you dumb? No, come on," she said, closing her coat and grabbing her key from the key hook.

"Then at least let me pay," he said, following her out.

She locked the door and they made their way out of the building. "Mr. Banner, I promised dinner and that's what I'm giving you. You're not paying and you know what? Now you don't even get to order what you want."

"But you already made-"

She cut him off again. "No, Bruce. I'm picking. You're having pasta and we're going… I don't know. The taxi driver will choose," she said as one pulled up. "Take us to the best Italian restaurant within ten minutes of here," she told him, sliding in.

"Lucie, traditionally, the man is supposed to pay for dinner," Bruce argued, following and closing the door.

"Traditionally, the woman is supposed to make dinner," Lucie countered. She looked him in the eyes as the cab started driving. "Look, I know you don't know me very well, but unless the other guy comes out to play, you're not going to win this argument. I grew up in New York and went to private school for 3 years. I spent most of my childhood as an only child and even after my brother was born, I always won. I always get what I want, and even though I'm nicer about it than I was as a child, there's no way you can win this one."

He sighed. "Fine, but next time, I'm paying."

She smiled, turning to look out the window. "Only if I want you to." She turned back to him, to find he had turned to look out the window as well. "So how was your day?" she asked, in a pleasant tone.

He turned to look at her, a slight frown on his face. "Fine, I guess. How was yours?"

"Cheer up, Mr. Banner. If you frown too much I'm afraid you'll get wrinkles like Mr. Barton."

"Why do you call us by our last names?" he asked.

She cocked her head in thought for a moment. "I guess it's to maintain an air of professionalism."

"Is that why you don't have many friends?"

"What do you mean? You're my friend," she said, looking out the window again.

"Sometimes I think so too, but other times, I'm not so sure. When you call someone by their last name like that, it sets up a wall, creates a formality that keeps people from really connecting."

"Well I suppose you'd know all about walls, now wouldn't you Mr. Banner?


	6. Nightmares and Keys PART 1 OF 2

Lucie wasn't paying attention to the film on the screen. She couldn't even if she tried; she was too focused on ever inch of her body Bruce was touching.

They'd started the night on opposite sides of the couch, Lucie's legs folded under her, but they quickly fell asleep. She'd stretched them, and accidentally kicked Bruce. She quickly apologized, but he brushed it aside, pulling her legs onto his lap; they sat on opposite sides, but it was still a small couch. She'd turn her body a little and Bruce had started massaging her feet. In turn, she found herself watching him instead of the movie.

'_It's logical to appreciate the feeling, it's a massage and people enjoy massages_,' one side of her told her. '_This is normal, there's nothing weird here_.'

But another side didn't agree, as usual when in his company. '_But you're 'appreciating' more than the massage.'_ She didn't like this side of her at the moment, the side that came out only when teasing girlfriends about their men. '_Admit it, you just want to bone him.'_

'_I do_ not!' the more professional side of her argued. '_He's your client, nothing more, nothing less.'_

'_Oh he's so much more. If that weren't true he wouldn't be on your couch at ten p.m.'_

'_We're watching a _movie _not…'_

'_Fucking?'_

'Lucie stop'! 'But it's the tru'

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a sharp pain on the bottom of her foot and returned to the dim room lit only by the flicker of the TV. "Ah, Bruce!" she gasped, jerking her leg back and sitting up.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, I-I hurt you, didn't I?" he stammered, linking away. "I'm so sor-"

"It's fine, I'm fine" she interrupted, putting a hand on his cheek. Her heart skipped a beat at the fact that he had stubble, which she loved on a man. Whenever her ex made her mad, he'd known to just go a day or two without shaving and she'd be in bed in a heartbeat. "I'm fine," she repeated.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly again.

"It's fine, don't think on it." She smiled and playfully smacked his cheek with the same hand before dropping it to her lap. With her other hand, she reached between them for the remote and lowered the volume. "What was that though?" she asked.

"I went too hard…?" he said, slightly confused.

"Not that. What's got you so tense?"

"Gee I don't know, I was just watching the movie, not really thinking about anything else…" he mused. "I guess it was just the movie after all."

"What's wrong with it? You don't like… weird, humanoid alien monster things? My brother said you'd like it but…he's no scientist."

He gave her a questioning look. "You talk to your brother about me?"

She shrugged, looking away. _Damn it._ "Sure, I talk to him about everything." _Good save._ "So what is it?"

She felt him give a slight shrug as he turned back to the screen. "I don't know, I guess it's… Do you really want me to believe this stuff? High school science in the 70's could prove this wrong!"

She laughed, shaking her head as she returned to her comfortable position…or as comfortable as it could be with him so close.

"What's so funny?" Bruce asked, turning to her.

"You are," she chuckled, kicking him lightly. "You can't even turn off your smarts long enough to enjoy a movie. I guess your intelligence is a curse. Besides, you went to high school in the 70's." She turned the volume back up as Bruce started rubbing her feet again. "Just try to enjoy it, oldie."

If only she could do the same, but between the heat and the weight of his body, it was almost impossible. She shoved his hands away with her feet; they exchanged a glance, but he stopped, draping one arm across the back of the couch. _Now I can finally pay attention._

Not ten minutes later he was fumbling with the hem of her jeans, pulling at the folds and rubbing them between his thumb and forefinger. Every touch set her off, and before long she felt as if she were on fire. She took a deep, steadying breath, but not even two minutes later she swung her legs off the couch and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked, confused.

"I need a drink," she muttered making her way to the kitchen. She threw on the sink and grabbed a glass from a cupboard, running it quickly under the faucet; she tossed the water in her mouth and slammed the glass down on the counter. Lucie twirled her hair back with one hand and spat the slightly-below-room-temperature water back into the spotlessly empty sink and rinsed the glass. Turning around to fill it, she was startled by Bruce leaning on the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed. "Bruce!" she gasped. "You scared me."

"Are you okay?" he asked, eyeing her.

"Yeah, yeah, just thirsty," she said in a falsely cheerful voice. "Would you like something to drink?" she offered, opening the fridge.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Sure, what do you have?"

"Well, water," she said, taking out a pitcher and setting it on the counter for herself, "and orange juice. Milk. I have some lemonade but if you want to feel like an adult there's wine and-"

"Water is fine, thanks," he interrupted.

"Okay…ice?" she asked, taking out another glass and filling the two.

"No thanks," he said in a quiet voice.

She handed him his glass before backing up to lean against a counter. "Cheers." She watched him raise the glass to his lips. She took a sip, and when she lowered the cup he was still drinking; she watched his Adam's apple as he swallowed, but as he lowered his drink she looked away.

"So are we going to finish the movie?" he asked slowly. She felt her body tense as he crossed the kitchen towards her, reaching behind her; the tap from him gently placing his empty glass in the sink behind her made her jump.

Lucie took another sip, making an 'mhm' sound. Leaving the glasses behind, the two returned to the living room; Bruce went to his spot on the couch, but Lucie first retrieved a blanket from the linen closet.

"Cold?" Bruce asked with a smile as she returned.

"You got it." Lucie dumped the cover on his lap as she sat down, folding her legs under her once more, but this time she faced him; he leaned over, pulling the blanket over and behind her; in his proximity, she closed her eyes and tried not to enjoy the clean but woody scent she'd come to associate with Doctor Bruce Banner in the past year or so.

"Are you tired? Should I go?" he asked, pulling back with a smile.

"Please don't," she pled, quickly before she could realize what she was saying and how it sounded. "I mean, the movie isn't over yet and it…" _When did he get so close?_

"It would be rude…?" Bruce filled in.

_When you sat so close. Toldja you want him._

"Yeah, rude." The confused woman turned away, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders.

_Not true. I'm his therapist._

"What? Nothing about my manners?"

_And being a therapist, it's obvious to you._

"Huh? Oh yeah, um, looks like you're finally learning how to be in company of other people," she stammered. _Jeez, what is _wrong_ with me today?_

The doctor gave her a quizzical look. "Are you getting sick?"

"Maybe…"

"Then maybe I _should_ go so you can rest," he concluded, starting to stand up, but Lucie stopped him, throwing an arm over his chest.

"No, I'm fine," she insisted as she quickly removed her arm from his bubble. "Let's just finish the movie."

"Alright," he slowly agreed; Lucie felt him watching her, but she refused to look at him, staring intently through the TV while continuing her argument with herself. A few beats later, he turned to the screen, draping an arm over the back of the sofa.

The tapping of his fingers near the back of her head gave away his irritation. This increased Lucie's discomfort, but she quickly pushed it away, finally focusing on the bad movie.

Until she fell asleep, head rested on his arm behind her..

The stroking of her cheek jolted her awake; Bruce had turned off the TV and turned on the dim lamp on the end table next to his side of the couch.

"Is the movie over? Did I snore?" she worried, rubbing her eyes.

Bruce smiled at her, dropping his hand from her face. "No, you didn't. It finished a few minutes ago." He started playing with her hair with the hand behind her.

She failed to stop the smile from forming on her lips. "Sorry for sleeping on you," she apologized, not moving though a side of her screamed for her to.

"Don't worry about it," he assured her. "You smile more in your sleep. Maybe you should do it more; you've seemed upset lately." Lucie raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, more than usual. You haven't been yelling at me, and you've been quiet."

"Must be a nice break for you." She yawned, rubbing her eyes again.

"A little weird, but I could get used to it." A pause. "What's wrong?"

She shrugged. "I guess I just haven't been sleeping lately. Nightmares and such." _Liar._

He frowned. "Nightmares?"

"Well yeah, I'm a human, I'm entitled to a nightmare here and there."

"But you said nightmares," he pointed out, putting emphasis on the 's.' "What about?"

She shrugged again. "I don't really remember; I just wake up scared a lot." _More like confused. _"It's probably just stress getting to me."

"Stress over what?"

"Work of course," thee therapist frowned. "It's getting confusing, keeping track of who went where, did what, said what. Stuff like that." _And the lies keep coming._ "But enough about me, how about you?"

Bruce looked at her with disbelief, but answered her question anyways, playing her game as always. "I've been okay. Tony says I need to lighten up, but he's always been a strong believer in making everything a game."

Lucie smiled. "You don't really believe that, do you? He takes some things seriously."

"Yeah, like playing games," he scoffed.

"Oh, come on. It's hard being looked up to by like, the whole world. It's a lot of stress," she defended.

"Doctor Lucie Reyes,you're not falling for the Man of Iron, are you?" he accused lightly.

She frowned, shifting away from Bruce. "No, of course not," she refuted. "I've just grown some respect over this year, he finally started opening up a little a couple of months ago."

Bruce gave her a slight nod. "Well, yeah…"

"Yeah…?" she pressed.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "You're right though, he's not that bad most of the time. I think it's a defense mechanism." Lucie watched him, thinking. "What?"

"You guys are close, aren't you?"

Bruce shrugged. "In a way. We don't really talk about ourselves, but he gives me a place to stay and before Cara cane along I pretty much babysat him. Living with someone, you notice little things and though we don't really seriously talk…"

"You still know a lot about each other…?" she concluded.

"Yeah," he nodded, smiling. "When did this evening turn into therapy?"

"I guess we're getting a head start on tomorrow's session, and speaking of which, it's actually late."

"I guess that means I'll be leaving soon," Bruce murmured.

"I guess…"

"So this is goodnight?" he asked, standing up.

"Have you ever noticed our goodnights are always so awkward?" she questioned, standing up and following him to the door.

"That's true," he agreed, turning in front of the door to face her.

"Well, goodnight, Doctor Banner," she said, reaching behind him to open the door.

"Goodnight, Lucie." He backed out, and the two smiled at each other for a moment before he turned and walked down the hall. As he turned the corner to the elevator, she closed the door, locking it.

"Fuck," Lucie sighed, leaning against the door. Suddenly very restless, she went to her room and started changing.


	7. Nightmares and Keys PART 2 OF 2

"Sorry I'm so late!" Lucie was flustered as Bruce led her into the living room, over an hour tardy. "I forgot my keys at Kyle's so when I got to my place I had to go back and then go home again and change; what I was wearing was _not _very professional," she breathed, rustling through her bag for her notes on Bruce.

"Kyle? I thought your brother's name was Leo?" he asked confused.

"Oh, no Kyle is some guy I met last night." Where was her folder?

"So…you went to some guy's house who you just met?"

"Yes…? Is there a problem?" she asked, glancing at him from her bag. _Fuck it_. She dumped the contents of her bag on Tony's cream couch.

"Why did you go to a stranger's house?"

She rolled her eyes. "He wasn't a stranger, we had a drink at the bar first."

"Oh so you were drunk? Even better."

She slapped the packet she had picked up from the mess back into the mess. "I said _a drink._ I don't get drunk from one drink."

"Well why did you forget your keys then?"

Because in the heat of the moment, most people don't make sure their stuff is still in the pocket of the jeans being pulled off them," she said nonchalantly.

"'_In the heat of the'-? _Lucie, you slept with a complete _stranger?_" he demanded, voice rising.

"He wasn't a stranger, Bruce!" she yelled, turning to him. "We had a _drink_ first! And even if you did,, it's my business!"

"It's my business if you die!"

"What the hell are you talking about!? We slept together, not go hunting in the woods at 2 a.m.!"

"Lucie, this is New York! He could have been a mass murderer! He cold have screwed you and when he was done just-" He stopped to take a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Look, I just don't understand why you did it."

"I wanted a good time and he showed me one," she said, taken aback.

He scoffed. "Even when I need a 'good time' I don't just pick up some woman off the street."

"It wasn't off the street! We met at the bar!"

"Great, so he probably does that every night and he _probably_ has a few STD's."

"We used a condom." Lucie saw Bruce roll his eyes. "What's it to you anyways? It's not like _we're_ sleeping together or anything." When he didn't say anything, just kept taking deep breaths, she continued; "Tell me, Bruce. Why do you care if I'm getting hot and heavy with another man?"

"Would you _stop?_"

"No, tell me!" Lucie demanded.

"I just- I didn't think you were that kind of girl."

"Oh, so now you're judging me, thinking I'm one of Tony's skanks from once upon a time, huh? I don't think that's fair." She sank to the couch, next to the pile, arms crossed. "I mean, I don't judge my clients when they tell me they turn into a giant monster that destroys anything that moves without a single regret," she spat. Immediately her shoulders sank; knowing she hit below the belt, she regretted it with every inch of her.

"I regret it, every single day," Bruce said slowly, clenching his fists by his sides. He took a deep breath, looking at the ground. "Every single day, I regret saving that man's life. Every single day, I wish I had left when I had the chance to save myself. Every single day, I think to myself, 'hey, if I had left, sure that guy would be dead. But so many lives would have been saved.'"

Lucie didn't say anything, only stared at Bruce, eyes wide with a mix of worry and shock; the door opened behind Bruce and Tony strutted in; he smiled at Lucie. "Hey Lucie, didn't know you two had a session today…" his words came to a slow stop as he realized the tension in the air. "Is everything okay? Are your sessions always like this?" he asked, crossing towards her.

Lucie shook her head slowly, looking from Tony to Bruce, who still looked at the ground.

"Maybe you should go, Lucie," Tony suggested; she started to gather her stuff, but Tony grabbed her wrists, making her jump and drop everything. "Just go, I'll handle this," he ordered quietly.

"Are you sure?" she whispered.

"Just go," he repeated.

Lucie nodded and stood up, glad Tony was going to fix things, at least for now. As she walked away, Bruce spoke up; "Don't forget your keys." Subconsciously, her hand went to her pocket; feeling it empty, she turned around, and Tony tossed them through the air to her.

'Go,' he mouthed, and she did.

"Want to tell me what happened, Big Guy?" Lucie heard Tony ask as she closed the door behind her, shaking.


	8. Headache

"Mr. Banner, are you feeling alright?" Lucie asked from her armchair. "You seem a little… blah."

"Do I?" he asked. "I'm sorry," he said, nonchalantly.

She hesitated, looking from the edge of her folder to his figure, sprawled over the couch. "So… Wanna talk about it?"

He smiled, his arm draped over his face so she couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. "I just have a headache, Lucie."

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. "Is it Tony? Has he been bothering you?" she asked.

"No more than usual." He paused. "Actually he's been kind of weirdly nice."

"How odd," she said, scribbling 'Tony nice now- weird?' on the paper. "Is that what's given you the headache?"

She saw his face twitch; the fact that she couldn't see his eyes bothered her. Usually they told her everything but now she wasn't sure if he was having a weird muscle spasm or rolling his eyes or thinking or what.

"No, it's not Tony."

She took a breath and looked at the ceiling. "So you don't want to talk about it."

"Not really," he said shortly.

"Fine. But we haven't had a session in weeks so I'm determined to make some progress with you," she said, looking back to her paper and fumbling with the corner.

"So what do _you_ want to talk about, Lucie?" he asked.

"I'm the therapist, I'm asking you," she said, starting to get irritated.

"I don't want to talk."

"But we're going to. What is _with_ you today?"

She heard him sigh loudly as he removed his arm from his face, throwing it in the air as if he gave up. "You want to know what gave me this headache, Lucie?" he asked, exasperated.

"I…guess…" she said, tensing.

He sat up, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back into the corner of the couch. "I stayed up all night thinking about how this meeting would come out."

"What do you mean?" she asked, eyeing him; he refused to look at her.

"You're just so…confusing," he said, frowning intensely at the wall. "I'm never sure if we're going to be on good terms or if you're pms-ing."

"Excuse me?" she said, frowning at him in disbelief.

"I just, I don't know Lucie."

"So what I'm hearing is we can't see each other unless it's during these sessions, right?" she demanded, her voice rising slightly.

"I guess," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't really see how that's going to be possible though, with you coming to the Tower for Tony all the time and everything."

"Gee, thanks Bruce. As if I come here everyday."

"You know what I mean,' he said, his voice shrinking very slightly as he quickly glanced at her and then back to the wall.

"No, really. Because I'm just another one of his skanks that climb into bed with him every other night and leave before the sun rises. Because I'm _not_ his therapist and because I _enjoy_ being dismissed by him whenever it looks like I'm _finally_ going to get somewhere with him."

"You're not any of that though-"

"No, I know Bruce. But thanks. I'll just make _him _come see _me_," she said, shuffling her papers back into the folder and s picking up her bag.

"Is our session over already?" he asked. "You only just got here."

She looked at her watch. "Fuck," she muttered. "You're right. We have forty more minutes. Fine. How are you feeling?" she asked, slumping back into the armchair, clicking her pen violently and reopening her folder.


	9. Shopping

Lucie hummed along to her ipod as she walked from the cab to the farmer's market. The weather was lovely, the air crisp and the sun bright, and she decided she wanted to spend the day outside for once.

Entering the bustling market, it wasn't long before she found the jewelry and accessories section. A few stalls were busier, but she always avoided the crowded ones; it was the quieter ones where she could find the best things.

A few trinkets later, she went to the produce section.

"Fancy seeing you here," a voice said behind her loud enough for her to here over her headphones and the crowd.

She turned, pulling out one of her headphones to find Bruce holding a bag of what looked like vegetables. "Oh, hi, Mr. Banner," she said, extending a hand. He shook it. "What brings you here?"

"Oh you know, greens," he said, holding up the bag for a moment before lowering again, hooking his thumbs in his jeans.

"Green seems to be a theme with you," she said, turning around and picking up a bright yellow pepper. They always seemed brighter at these things than at the store. Maybe she would buy a few.

"So I see you like peppers," he acknowledged.

"Not particularly," she said, replacing it to its former spot on the stand. "But I love the colors. Everything is so vibrant at these things, it's like…"

"Healthy?" he offered.

"I knew you were a health freak," she joked. "No, I don't know. It's kind of like home, everyone is simple and happy and even though there's still a lot of people, there's a strange simplicity that's relaxing."  
"I never thought you would consider 'vibrant' colors homey," he said, thinking back to how soft the colors in her apartment were.

She laughed, making her way to a stand with strawberries. She had to get some, now that she saw them. "I mean where I grew up. I'm actually not a city girl, you know."  
"No I didn't know. Do you prefer the city?"

She shook her head. "Not really, but I've been here so long I get restless when I'm back home for too long, so most of the year I'm here. I go back for summer to escape the heat, but I never stay more than a couple of weeks. Anyways, there's grass back home, and it's so green. Nothing like the grass here. Unless you go to the nicer areas of Central Park."

"Oh," he said.

She paid for her strawberries then turned back to him. "Listen, Bruce. It's nice seeing you, but I have to get back to the city because I have an appointment with Natasha. Do you want to split a cab? We can talk without having to yell over the crowds," she offered.


	10. Tipsy

Bruce couldn't remember exactly how he ended up in the cab- there was a blur of images, bodies bumping and grinding as he tried to escape, a flash of Lucie's blues eyes smiling at him, Natasha surrounded by men, an amused Steve leading them through the crowd towards the exit, a drunk Lucie leaning on him for support.

The two were in the cab for a good five minutes before the haze started to fade away, a good five minutes before he noticed Lucie's body pressed against his side, her head heavy on his shoulder. He wasn't even entirely sure where they were headed until he saw the tower up ahead. By then, the haze had faded completely and all he felt was a strange sense of stability.

As the cab slowed to a stop Bruce gently nudged Lucie awake; when her only response was a moan and shifting her weight to lean against the car door, Bruce got out of the cab and went to her side, taking some cash out of his wallet as he walked. Opening the door, Lucie started to slide out, but Bruce caught her and stood her. He tried to hand the money to the driver, but he waved it away. "Your blond friend paid up front," he explained.

"Right, thanks," Bruce mumbled. He hesitated, then turned to Lucie, who was swaying to a song in her head. "I'm not sure I trust you to get home in your…current state." He wondered if Steve had done this on purpose, but doubted Tony would convince him to do something like this.

"I don't wanna go home," she whined. Bruce gently tugged on one of her arms, trying to get her back into the cab, but she threw her arms around his waist. "Please Bruce, let me stay," she pled.

For a moment, Bruce only stared down at the top of her head, unsure of what to do. He knew what Tony would tell him to do, but he didn't want to take advantage of her in any way- not to mention, his Lucie, the sober one, would never approve of this behavior. When she woke, she'd be furious. And yet…

Bruce lightly wrapped one arm around her and closed the cab door with the other, caving in to her wishes. "Alright, fine, you can stay in one of Tony's extra rooms." If he could sneak her in before Jarvis locked all the doors.

Lucie broke away from him, turning to the tower. "This will be so cool! Like a slumber party for grown ups!"

Jeez, she was like a bipolar kid. Bruce started after her as the cab drove away. "A slumber party for grown ups?"

Lucie smiled up at him. "Yeah, I've neve-"

She stumbled and Bruce quickly caught her arm, steadying her. "Are you okay?"

Lucie looked from his hand wrapped around her arm to his eyes. "Yes," she whispered. Bruce cleared his throat and let go of her arm, opening the door and letting her in. The two rode up in silence, though Lucie wiggled a little, and didn't speak until they reached the empty living room.

"So what now? Can we watch a movie? With popcorn? And a pillow fight? And eat ice cream and-"

"Lucie," Bruce cut her off, pulling her gently down the hall. "Tony can't know you're here."

The girl pouted, pulling away from him. "Why not? Are you ashamed of me?"

"No, never," he said quickly. "It's just that… Tony doesn't like people using his spare rooms because he has to clean them," he made up, pulling her again, to the room closest to his. He tried the knock, but of course it was locked already. Sighing, he pulled her into his room and sat her on the bed. Yeah, Tony had gotten to Steve.

"So are we going to have a pillow fight here then?" Lucie asked, throwing herself backwards.

Bruce tensed and went to his dresser. "No Lucie, we're going to sleep." Opening drawers, he pulled out a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

"But I'm not tired!" she whined, loudly, making Bruce jump slightly.

He turned, folding the clothes together in one hand, and crossed over to Lucie. "I am," he lied; he probably wouldn't sleep all night. He held a hand out to her, and she took it enthusiastically.

"Are we gonna dance again?" she asked as he pulled her up into a standing position, entwining his fingers with hers.

"No, you're going to go walk through that door and change into this," he said, turning her towards the bathroom and shoving the clothes in her hands. Lucie shrugged and went in, closing the door behind her.

Bruce sighed and rubbed his face with one hand, relieved to be alone for even a minute. He went out into the hall to find the linen closet, where he found an extra set of sheets. He could probably find a sleeping bag if he looked enough, but Bruce didn't mind the floor for one night- it was even carpeted. Returning to his room, he realized how tired he really was. Maybe he actually would get some sleep tonight.

Or so he thought, until Lucie returned from the bathroom.

He had to admit, he liked how she looked in his clothes, even if it was just nightclothes.

"I'm ready to fight now," she said, walking over to the bed.

Bruce chuckled nervously, turning to the dresser and getting another set of clothes. "Okay, Lucie, we can play- but first I have to change."

"Fine, but hurry up," she demanded, falling back and pulling a pillow onto her face.

"Right." Bruce entered the bathroom and changed, moving as slowly as possible. Once he'd taken care of his human needs he gathered Lucie's clothes and shoes- which she'd scattered through the bathroom- and returned to the room, wondering how to convince her to fall asleep.

Lucky for him, she already had, arms spread eagle with the pillow still on her face. Bruce sighed in relief, and chuckled, turning off the light and turning on the lamp. Tossing the clothes on the dresser, he spread the spare sheets on the floor and turned to Lucie, wondering how to do this; he couldn't exactly let her sleep half off the bed, she wasn't even under the blankets. He started with the blanket, folding it down as far as possible with her on top of them. He then sat next to her and moved down to her legs, lifting them up to the bed, slowly turning her body as he went. She stirred slightly, which only made things a little easier, but by the time she was fully turned on to the bed, it was too late for Bruce to realize the turning process had unfolded the blanket again, still completely under her. He cursed under his breath, rubbing his face. He was too tired for this, and the movies made this stuff seem so easy. _But they're awake in movies. _He rolled Lucie onto her side, pushing the blankets with her. Surprisingly, this woke her up more than turning her. The girl rolled onto her side, mumbling and putting a hand on his arm, eyes still closed. "What?" Bruce asked in a whisper.

"Sleep with me," she mumbled a little louder.

"Oh," Bruce said dumbly. "Lucie you're drunk, no." He pulled the blanket over her, tucking it in under her sides.

"Please?" she asked as he grabbed one of the pillows and turned off the lamp.

"No," he said, firmly, though he knew Tony would give him hell for it. He threw the pillow on the floor next to the bed and knelt to the floor, trying to make himself comfortable on the floor. After a few moments, Lucie fell silent again. Bruce figured she'd fallen asleep again until he heard her fumbling with the blankets. "What are you doing?" he asked, sitting up.

"Sleeping with you," she said, a frown in her voice. He heard her stand up, and Bruce rose, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"No." With the word, he gently pushed her back down to the bed, and she grabbed his wrists and fell back, forcefully pulling him down on top of her.

"Then sleep with me," she demanded, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Bruce's heart raced, not remembering when was the last time he had a girl in his bed as he gently detached her from him. "I can't, Lucie, it wouldn't be right."

"Please?" she begged, trailing a hand down his arm.

"Why, Lucie?" he asked, trying to ignore her touch in the dark.

She turned, finally letting go of him and crawling under the covers again, to his relief. "I missed you while I was gone and I don't want to feel alone tonight… But I get it, you don't like me," she said, turning away from him. "After everything I said last week, how could you?"

Bruce's heart leapt, and something compelled him to pull the covers back. "Move over." Maybe she wasn't that drunk.

Lucie turned to him, smiling as she slid over. "Really?" Or maybe she was. But less so than an hour ago.

"Really," he assured her, picking up his pillow from the floor and putting it next to hers. He hesitated briefly before sliding in with her, laying flat on his back with his hands folded on his chest. Lucie moved closer to Bruce under the sheets and turned onto her side, wrapping an arm over his chest and one of her legs over his, making Bruce's heart beat faster. _Yep, no sleep tonight._ He unfolded his legs and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her.

"Thanks, Bruce," Lucie mumbled; he could feel her finally drifting back to sleep.

"For what?"

"For being so nice when I'm so mean," she whispered, tightening her hold on him. "I'm sorry for what I said."

"It's fine," he whispered back, stroking her hair with one hand. They sat in silence for a few moments until he felt her shaking. "Lucie? Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"I just- I'm so sorry, Bruce." She buried her face into his chest and Bruce felt tears soak through his shirt.

"Hey, Lucie," he said, lifting her face to his. "It's fine, don't worry about it. I'm sorry for yelling at you like that." It actually had been bothering him all week, though Tony said he was being stupid.

Lucie laughed through her tears and slapped his chest before wiping her eyes. "Don't be silly. I yell at you all the time." With that, her tears came back, more violently, and she buried her face again.

"Oh, gosh, Lucie, shhh." He pressed her tightly against him with one arm and rubbed her arm and back with the other.

The two stayed like that until Lucie fell asleep. Bruce didn't fall asleep until the sun started to come up.


	11. Exes PART 1 OF 2

The day was going much smoother than Lucie expected; the family loved Bruce, he was such a gentleman and so polite. Her brother, especially, seemed to really click with Bruce, which Lucie found weird yet comforting as she watched the two from across the pool in her father's backyard; she smiled at him when he looked up, feeling her eyes on him, and he smiled back.

"Look at the two, they're so cute." Lucie turned her attention to her cousin May next to her, who was sipping a margarita.

"Leo and Bruce?" Lucie smiled, taking a sip from her own. "Yeah, isn't it weird?"

Scarlet, her other cousin's fiancé, laughed. "She meant you and Bruce."

Lucie shifted uncomfortably. "If you say so, though you haven't seen us in our…natural setting," she said.

May rolled her eyes. "You two are probably disgustingly cute when you're alone."

Lucie shook her head. "Not at all, I actually feel really bad for him when we're alone most of the time," she confessed. "I'm kind of…evil to him."

"You can't be as bad as me and James," Scarlet said.

Lucie looked at her skeptically. "I don't know. I mean Leo told me how you almost threw him in the lake when he proposed but…" Lucie bent her knees on the lounge chair, staring down at the salt on her glass as she went over some of the worst times she'd yelled at him.

"But what?" May pressed after she said nothing for a few moments.

"Nothing," Lucie said, forcing on a smile as she sat up. She swung her legs off the chair, sliding her feet into her sandals. "I just like him," she said, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Scarlet asked. "We rarely see you, can't we talk a little more?"

Lucie smiled at her soon-to-be-cousin-in-law. "Sure, later on. We'll be here until Sunday."

"Your poor father, he'll be kept up until you leave with you two banging so loudly down the hall," May smirked as she took another sip from her glass.

Lucie's face flashed shock before she wiped it of emotion. "Maybe so, I'll try to keep it quiet," she said, wrapping her hair up into a messy bun. "But Are you sure you should be drinking that, May?" she asked, waving goodbye at the girls as she turned away.

"What is she talking about?" Scarlet asked behind her. "Oh my gosh are you pregnant?"

Lucie smirked and started walking around the pool to her brother and Bruce. "No of course not!" May denied.

"Oh but you are! You put your drink dow- oh my gosh May you're pregnant!"

Lucie shook her head, wondering how her cousins could ever come to such conclusions of her actually having sex with Bruce. After all, he was still her client. She'd only brought him along because her brother insisted on it, threatening to bring her by car if Lucie didn't. It made her wonder how much Leo told the family even though she still introduced Bruce as her client. At least she'd never mentioned the hulk thing, so there was no way of the family knowing that.

She couldn't help enjoying having him along on the trip so far though. Things away from the city were simple. She enjoyed his company; he enjoyed hers. No talking about work. No working. They were just friends again. Friends who went on a mini vacation together. To meet the family. No tension. No yelling or fighting. No unwanted touching. Truth be told they hadn't spent a moment completely alone since they left Tony's but she was glad the family kept pulling them in opposite directions. No need to play pretend in front of them if they weren't close enough to play pretend.

Lucie liked this simplicity, she decided as she gently placed a hand on Bruce's arm to alert him of her presence as she walked up behind him. "What are you two up to?" she asked, frowning at the heat from the grill.

Leo grinned at her as he turned away from the grill. "Filling in Bruce about the family," he said. "You know, pointing out the crazies and such."  
"Oh? Did you point out yourself, kid? You are the craziest of the bunch after all." She turned to Bruce and covered her mouth with one hand. "You'll want to watch out for him, he's actually a serial killer," she whispered loudly, and Bruce chuckled.

"I might be a serial killer but at least I do it in one go, quick and easy and painless, no messes ever," Leo shrugged. "I mean, if you ever break up with my sister, man, you'd better sleep with one eye open from fear of _her,_ not me. She's a sadist; when we go for kills together, I always feel bad for the victims."

"I'm not a sadist," Lucie argued. "Right, Bruce?"

Bruce shrugged and made a ("Taylor") hesitant face. "I'd actually kind of believe it, Lucie, with the way you yell at me sometimes," he said, giving her an apologetic look.

"Whatever," she said, crossing her arms and looking away from them. Her eyes landed on all-too-familiar figure, and she turned back to the boys, hoping he hadn't seen them.

"Hey, Tom was a wreck when you left him," Leo pointed out, making cringe. "You ripped out his heart, crushed it, then smeared it over his face, just because you could."

"Tom?" Bruce asked, confused.

"Ooh, you haven't had that awkward ex talk, have you?" Leo flinched.

"No need to," Lucie said. "I'm sure Bruce will tell me all about his exes in a session when he's ready, no need to rush it. I'm okay with not knowing about them."

Leo cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Um, Lucie, it doesn't exactly work that way… At some point you'll have to tell him about Tom."

"Would you please stop saying his name?!" Lucie demanded as she saw him again, now walking towards them. "I mean speak of the devil and…"

Leo glanced over his shoulder then quickly turned back to them. "Put your arm around her waist," he told Bruce.

"What?" Bruce asked, confused.

"Do it. If he's drunk you'll wish you had."

Lucie flinched as Bruce did as he was told, but willed herself to melt into his body. "Sorry," Bruce whispered into her ear, and she shook her head, mentally cussing at Leo.

"Well look who we have here!" Tom said loudly, clamping a hand on Leo's shoulder as he reached them, a beer in the other hand.

"Tom, nice to see you, bro," Leo said, faking a smile. "How've you been?"

"I've been alright," Tom said, casually. "It gets a little lonely some nights in that big house we bought but life's been good." He looked straight at Lucie, and she moved closer to Bruce. "How about you? Who's this guy?"

Lucie smiled. "I've been great, better than ever." She looked at Bruce, then Leo, then back to Tom. "Um, Bruce, this is Thomas, my ex fiancé, and Tom, this is Doctor Bruce Banner, my…" She hesitated, wanting to say client but his arm around her made it clear there was something more.

"Her boyfriend," Leo finished for her, making her flinch. It's such a strong word…

"Boyfriend, eh?" Tom asked, taking a sip from his drink.

"Yeah," Lucie mumbled, looking to the ground as she felt heat rise to her face.

"I see you have a thing for doctors, Lu," Tom said, referring to the fact that he himself was a doctor. "What's your specialty?" he asked Bruce. "Kids? Brains? Plastic?"

Bruce cleared his throat as he spoke to Tom for the first time. "Gamma radiation."

"Oh!" Tom exclaimed, raising an eyebrow. "So you like money too, Lu!"

Lucie scoffed, irritated. "That's not your business anymore tom, it hasn't been for three years!" she snapped.

"Alright, alright, I'll back off," Tom said, raising hiss hands defensively, one still wrapped around the beer. "So how long have you been dating?" he asked, casually.

"Funny thing, Tom, that's not your business either!" she yelled, feeling Bruce's arm tighten around her waist. She was aware of the family starting to wonder what was going on, but Tom was starting to seriously piss her off.

"Alright, Lu, calm down, I was just trying to make small talk," Tom said, taking half a step back.

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down and don't you call me that either! Who invited you anyways?" she asked, shooting an eye at Leo.

"Hey, I didn't say anything, I didn't even know he was here," Leo defended himself.

"Of course not; James invited me."

"I did no such thing," James, Scarlet's fiancé, interrupted, approaching them. "He asked me to hang out today and I said I couldn't because Lucie was coming in today for a big family reunion."

"And I am a part of this family, I practically raised Leo, didn't I? Even before Lucie I-"

"You don't get it! And that was always the problem, Thomas! You never understood your boundaries and what you could and couldn't do, what you could and couldn't tell me to do or what to wear or how to act around the family, you were always just poking away to see how far you could push me and-"

Bruce pulled on Lucie, pushing her behind him. "I think you should go," he said, looking Tom right in the eye, who scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"I'll go when someone who actually lives here tells me to," he challenged.

"Well I live here," Leo spoke up. "I mean I don't stay here every night but this is still where all my mail comes in so… I agree with Bruce, Tom. Sorry, but you need go."

Tom raised an eyebrow and finished his beer without moving. "Alright, I'll go, let them pretend they're madly in love and completely happy at home behind closed doors. I'll let the whore play her game with her rich doctor," he spat.

"Now," Leo said firmly, and James turned the ex around, escorting him to the exit.

Behind Bruce, Lucie breathed deeply, trying to calm herself down as she rubbed her face; Bruce turned to her, gently pulling her hands from her face. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern on his face.

"I'll be okay," she said. "He just pisses me off, walking in all high and mighty as if he can do whatever he wants. He has no right to-"

Bruce cut her off by cupping her face in his hands; Lucie saw Leo turn away over Bruce's shoulder, trying to give them some privacy. "Hey, let's not think about it, okay? We're here to see your family, let's not let his presence ruin the day."

Lucie glanced at the ground before looking back at Bruce's eyes as his thumbs stroked her face. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He smiled, shaking his head slightly. "You know, ever since you yelled at me like that that day, you spend a lot of your time apologizing. I think I might miss your yelling."

She felt her eyes start to tear up, and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. She knew he'd be confused; she never initiated the contact, she still shied away from his touch most of the time, and they still hadn't really talked about them. He hesitated, before returning the hug, resting his head on hers. "I just feel so bad about it," she mumbled into him. "I wonder why you don't hate me all the time."

Bruce pulled back from the hug and raised her head to meet her eyes. "I couldn't hate you, Lucie," he said. "You can be a total bitch sometimes-," both of them smiled, and he continued. "But ask Tony; I've changed."

Lucei hugged him for a second time. "I'm sorry," she said again, and they both laughed.

"What are you so sorry for?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she laughed, then became more serious. "Everything. I'm so mean to you sometimes I- I can't believe we're doing this in front of my brother."

"Oh good! She remembers I exist!" Leo called playfully, and the two broke away. "Why are you stopping? Lucie was just about to start talking about her feelings. Bruce. I understand you're new at this Lucie game, but when she's about to start talking about her feelings, you don't move, you don't speak, you don't even _breathe_, because something about the atmosphere is perfect and it's just-"

"Leo, stop," Lucie ordered, wiping her eyes for good measure.

"Aww, were you crying?" he asked, feigning concern as he placed a hand over his heart. "Bruce, you got her to cry!"

"I was crying because my brother is so gay sometimes," she joked.

"Hey don't let Uncle Jer here you, he's still sensitive about it," Leo said in all seriousness.

"Right, sorry," she said, starting to take a step away. "I'll see you guys later, Leo, don't tell him too many lies."

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked.

"Restroom," she said. "A girl's gotta pee sometimes."

"Have you guys started peeing in front of each other yet?" Leo asked, and Lucie's jaw dropped.

"Of course not! Do you pee in front of Cher?"

Leo laughed. "Duh. What's a little pee between friends when you're already sleeping together?"

"We're not sleeping together," Bruce cut in.

"And it will never happen if you ever pee in front of me, Bruce," Lucie said, turning away.

"Oh but she didn't say it _wouldn't_ happen, eh Brucie?" she heard Leo say.

"Brucie?" Bruce asked, trying to change the subject, for which Lucie silently thanked him.

"Yeah, you need a nickname!"

Jeez, her brother was almost engaged- that would happen later this weekend- and he still insists on nicknames. Lucie shook her head, willing Bruce the patience it took to talk to her brother sometimes.


	12. Exes PART 2 OF 2

"So how about you lovebirds get some sleep?" Leo suggested, a sparkle in his eye. "Or not," he winked. "Not sleeping is nice too, you can make some babies of your own, get those eggs working," he said, closing the bedroom door behind him before Lucie could yell at him again.

The day had been nice after Tom left, everything was lovely, and though Cher, Leo's fiancé, was tired after work, she was quick to warm up to Bruce after she heard what went on with Tom, and May finally admitted she was three months pregnant, which led to much of the night talking about babies.

"I'm sorry about my brother," Lucie said, folding back the covers on her bed.

"Don't worry about it, he's…fun," Bruce said, going to his bag on her dresser.

"Do you want to hang anything? There are hangers in the closet. And if you want to, you can keep your stuff in the second drawer, I had Leo move everything so you could have some space and-"

"Lucie, we'll only be here three more days, I'm not moving in or anything," Bruce interrupted, pulling clothes and a toothbrush from his bag and smiling at her.

"Well, yeah, but I want you to be comfortable," she said, sitting on the bed.

"I'll be fine," he said, leaving to go change.

Lucie sighed, taking a moment to clear her thoughts before going to pull out her own pajamas. Quickly judging how much time she had left before he returned, she quickly stripped and pulled on a nightgown.

She was pulling her hair into a loose bun when he returned wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants. "Don't look at me," she said quickly, grabbing his dirty clothes and throwing it in the laundry with hers, ducking behind him and out of the room.

"Okay," he said slowly as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

Alone again, Lucie wished she'd picked different pajamas. She'd thought she was being daring, but now she felt all kinds of exposed as she took care of her needs. Before she left, she grabbed a towel and held it in front of her the long ways.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow at her when she stepped out of the bathroom. "You okay there?" he asked, sitting on the small loveseat by the door.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, going to the side of the bed furthest from the door. "Um… I call this side."

"Am I sleeping here or something?" Bruce asked, confused.

"Do you not want to? I thought that was the plan," she said, speaking quickly out of nervousness.

Bruce smiled, shaking his head to himself. "Well you see, Lucie, We never talked about the sleeping arrangements, so I just assumed you'd have me sleep in the guest room."

"Oh well you can do that if you want!" she said, wishing she'd had more to drink.

"Well maybe I don't want that anymore," he said slowly, moving slowly towards the bed.

"That works too," she said quietly as she started to get into bed, quickly covering her bare legs with the quilt.

"Are you sure?" he asked, switching off the lamp by her bed; only the moonlight peeking through her window lit the room now. "I mean if you're uncomfortable with it, I can go," he said. She could tell he was testing her, verbally for once.

"No that's fine," she said, laying down on the edge of the bed and crossing her arms over her chest, staring intently at the ceiling. She'd meet his challenge.

"Okay then," he said, crawling into bed; she felt his weight stop an inch from her, which she found completely unnecessary considering the size of the bed. "Goodnight, Lucie."

"Goodnight, Bruce."

They laid like that for a few moments before Lucie started to get irritated by his proximity-without-touching.

"OhmygodBrucepleaseeithergeto utofthisbedormoveoveryou'retoocloseIneedmyspaceIhavea bubbleIcan'thavepeopletouchingmeinmysle ep," she said in one breath as Bruce started laughing. "It's not funny!" she yelled, turning over to face him and pushing him.

"Alright, I'll leave," he said, laughing still as he got out of bed. "But we have to talk."

"Okay we can schedule a session for when we get back home," she said, moving into the middle of the bed.

"I didn't say _I_ have to talk, Lucie. I said _we_ need to talk."

"I don't want to talk," she said, staring at the ceiling again, hands folded behind her head.

"Who is Tom?" Bruce asked.

"You met him, remember? An ex."

He sat back down on the bed and turned to face her in the dark. "An ex _fiancé._ That's more than an ex."

"It's still an ex," she shrugged. "Tell me about yours, surely you have a few exes."

"Not really," he said, looking away as Lucie looked at him. "Just one that really matters. Betty. We used to work together. She had brown hair. Dark. A lot darker than yours. And blue eyes. Lighter than yours."

"She sounds pretty," Lucie said, suddenly self-conscious and glad for the darkness.

"She was," he admitted, looking back at Lucie. "But she's a thing of the definite past, I haven't seen her in years; I lost count of how many."

Lucie slowly sat up and pushed herself against the headboard of the bed. "Well what happened?" she asked.

"I became the hulk, and little by little, different factors started pulling us apart," he said simply. "What about you?"

"Well…" she hesitated. "Like you, just one that that matters. Tom."

"What happened with you?" he asked.

"We went way too fast," she sighed. "My father introduced us one day, he used to baby-sit Leo, and a year later we bought a house together and were engaged," she said, looking down. "He was really great at first, I fell for him in a heartbeat. He was charming, a total gentleman, handsome, smart, funny." She looked up at Bruce, who was watching her. "But most of all he was immature. We were in the house for two months before I left him. Ripped it off like a band-aid, too. I wasn't really mean about it. I just took my name off the papers, gave him back the ring, and moved to Manhattan."

"Just like that?"

"Well, it was just like that for me. After I moved in and saw how much he drank and how bad he could get, I wanted nothing to do with him. I couldn't live like that. He was just _mean_ to me. You saw how he was." She scoffed as she looked away. "Once I went with May to look for bridal dresses since we were engaged at the same time, and when I came back- three in the afternoon, mind you- he was drunk off his ass and calling me a prostitute, said I'd run off to live in a whore house because I was too dumb to get a real job." She took a breath, trying to stop her anger again. "Anyways, that's when I decided to leave. A week later I was gone and he was alone. He bothered me for a while, but I ignored his calls until I changed my number. And since then I haven't seriously dated anyone. Before him, I lived in California, and every guy was just a summer love with sex on the beach."

Bruce cleared his throat and she apologized. "Well that's another question. How many?" he asked.

Lucie cocked her head, counting. "Three guys before Tom, Tom, and two guys until this day. So…six. But most of them meant nothing to me. Only the first one, Tom, and the guy before Tom," she said, looking back to Bruce. "You?"

"Not as many," he admitted. "But not all of them were in America. And each of them meant something at the time."

"I'll take it," Lucie shrugged. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?" she asked, hoping they would sleep now.

"What are we?" he asked, getting straight to it.

She swallowed, pulling one of the pillows onto her lap. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

"I mean, should I refrain from getting upset if you sleep with another man again, and should you refrain from getting upset if I sleep with another woman?"

"But sex doesn't mean any-"

"Please answer the question, Lucie."

She sighed. "I don't know. I mean the logical answer would be no, because I'm your therapist and you're my client therefore everything should be strictly professional and sex shouldn't matter." She paused, waiting for a response.

"But…?" Bruce pressed.

"But I think I would be a little upset," Lucie admitted quietly, glad again for the darkness as she felt heat rise to her face for the second time that day. When Bruce didn't say anything, Lucie found her voice again. "Look, Bruce, can we do this later? I just want to enjoy this weekend and what we were doing today- whatever it was- it was nice."

"You mean this?" he asked, placing a hand on her cheek and turning her to face him.

She swallowed and whispered, "Yeah."

"And this?" he asked, brushing a few loose strands of hair from her face, sending a shiver through her spine.

"Yeah," she whispered again as he gently pulled her face closer to his. "Bruce?"

"Yes, Lucie?"

"I think you should sleep here tonight, if we're going to keep up whatever this is," she suggested.

He smiled. "Maybe that would be a good idea if you're comfortable with it."

"I'm not uncomfortable with it."

Bruce pulled away from her, and Lucie was left blinking in confusion. "Good, then move over." He smiled as she did what she was told, still a little dazed.

"You're a jerk, you know," she said, laying flat on her back as he crawled in next to her.

"What did I do?" he asked innocently, turning on his side to watch her.

"It's more of what you didn't do," she clarified, wrapping an arm around him in the dark.

He raised her face to his once more. "You mean this?" he asked, before pressing his lips to hers gently.

Lucie's breath caught in surprise, then her eyes closed as her hand moved to the back of his head, wrapping her fingers in his hair and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss; Bruce's hand moved from her chin to her waist as he shifted his body so he was slightly on top of her. Lucie moaned and ran the hand not in his hair over his shoulders and back; she reached down, and started tugging on his shirt, but he froze and pulled away.

"What's wrong," Lucie gasped, pulling him back down; they kissed again, but he pulled away, laying flat on his back, arms spread out.

"We're not doing this," he said, catching his breath.

"But what would Tony say?" she asked, tugging on his shirt again.

"This isn't between Tony and I," he said firmly, grabbing her wrist and stopping her. "This is between you and I. And this isn't going to happen yet."

She sighed, turning to lie on her back, her head resting in the crook of Bruce's arm. "And here I was thinking you wanted it as much as I did. Man, I feel dumb."

"I want it, Lucie, but…"

"But what? I swear sex has never been so complicated in my life," she mumbled.

"But your father is down the hall and I'm uncomfortable with that," Bruce said.

"My father? Is that it?" she asked, confused. "Well he's half-deaf and my bed doesn't creak that much," she said, turning to run a nail down his chest, slowing just above his pant line and tugging it with her nail, but Bruce grabbed her hand again.

"No, Lucie," he said firmly.

"Jackass," she muttered, turning her back to him and pulling the blanket to her chin, shutting her eyes.

She heard him sigh and after a moment he turned, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him. "I just need to know what I am to you," he said, kissing her neck. "Once people find out what I am, they tend to leave, and I don't want to lose you," he said into her skin.

She turned her head to face him, opening her eyes. "If you don't want me jumping your pants, you need to shave every day- maybe even twice a day. Or else this will turn into just sex for me," she warned, before pulling him down to kiss her again. "But I could get used to this while we're here," she smiled against his lips.


	13. Blindfolds

So this one is way off in the future... Like, a few years. At least 3 years after Lucie met the Avengers. I'm not too sure about it, but considering where I want their relationships to go, I think it works out... Definitely really long... Hope you like it :D There probably won't be anything written after this one (you know, in the timeline) because I kind of want there to be a... Well, there's the one about their daughter, which pretty much ties things up in their life. But enjoy :)

* * *

Lucie stuck close to Steve's side as Tony led them through the small, unfamiliar town. She was hot, and it was humid, and she wanted nothing more than a tall glass of water, but she didn't complain as the boys led her to what-who, her future was. Countless stares followed the strangers to the town, stares Lucie would have to endure for weeks to come.

Eventually, they came across a small house; Lucie hid behind Steve, suddenly shy. She knew the plan; they'd spoken about it for a full week before they came, then some more on the way here, and Steve had written a note, which he'd stuck in the front pouch of her backpack before they landed in South America. She knew it by heart, she'd agreed to it countless times, but that didn't mean she entirely liked it.

She just wanted to get away, to think.

Normally she would go to her family, or call her brother- oh, her brother. Every time Lucie thought of how she might never see him again or even hear his voice again, she wanted to break down into tears. But she didn't allow herself to. She knew her options; go back to her family, but never know what happened. She would just tell everyone she woke up in a hospital in a coma, tell everyone she couldn't remember what put her in the coma. Of course, they would know right away; the whole country saw the footage; even Lucie saw it when she finally woke up, months later.

Her other option was to 'disappear' off the face of the earth, live with her client, Dr. Bruce Banner, and never return to the states.

Any sane person would return to their family, but Lucie couldn't shake the feeling that Dr. Banner was important to her. Yes, from their first session, she knew he would prove to be the most difficult to really help, but anyone who barely glimpsed over the team's files would know that. But she had barely convinced him to speak though, and she felt they were just skimming the surface still; with Steve, they dove into the root of the problem weeks ago-months, she reminded herself, a few more months than a year, actually.

A year…

She'd forgotten a year worth of memories…

There were pieces here and there she remembered- sitting on a roof talking to Bruce, training with Natasha, yelling at Steve… She even remembered her cousin telling her she was pregnant. And she remembered all these little things about each of the Avengers she'd never heard them say before. No, it wasn't that she remembered them so much as she knew them.

Most of these things were about Bruce though-how he preferred honey over sugar in his tea, or how a crease formed between his eyebrows whenever he thought too hard, or how he never had any more or any less than three pencils or pens on his desk while he was working.

Lucie found it odd that she'd watched him work; she preferred to only see her clients in the traditional therapist setting. But she found other things she remembered odd too, and completely unprofessional, so much so that she was actually sickened by the thought that she would ever let him break implied boundaries between a therapist and her client, even if it was to 'observe him in a natural setting,' which was the only reason she'd take for why she let things happen. She thought they were dreams at first, but when she asked Steve, he'd pointed her in Tony's direction, who showed her countless videos; she remembered the initial shock, which wore down to numbness as she watched a portion of her life play out on a screen; Tony gave her access to hours upon hours worth of empty holes in her memory, but no matter how much she watched, most of it felt like she was watching a stranger's life, like she was at a movie theater, and when Steve confirmed it all to be true- when Natasha confirmed it to be true- it still felt surreal, she still couldn't believe it.

Like she couldn't believe it when she dodged Natasha's advances and punched her in the face.

"Muscle memory," Natasha said, and the one thing that'd given Lucie hope for herself. "Once you learn something, once you hear it, you never really forget it. Sure, you might not remember it right away, but it's always there, locked away in your memory."

Which is why now she was standing on what was supposed to be Dr. Banner's- Bruce's-porch.

Steve did knock on the door, but there was no answer, and Tony, ever impatient to be waiting around for people, twisted the doorknob; to Lucie's surprise, it opened with ease, though after a moment, she supposed her father rarely locked the door during the day when she was growing up, and she grew up in a small, though more modernized, town like this one.

The trio entered the house, Tony first, followed by Lucie, and Steve bringing up the rear, carrying her small suitcase with a few personal belongings.

The inside of the house was small, but clean and- surprisingly- nicely furnished. Small plants decorated the home, which Lucie decided would probably have to keep her busy while Bruce worked- whatever he did in this town. There was a radio, but no television that Lucie could see. And no books… At least it had air conditioning; they could build up a collection of books throughout her stay.

Steve put down her suitcase by the door- which Lucie was charmed to see was painted a soft auburn color in contrast to the harsh, American white-and stepped outside again, leaving Lucie and Tony alone; neither said anything as Tony stepped into the kitchen- there was a large window connecting the kitchen to the living room- and brought Lucie a glass off water. He took one look around the house and left, telling her to get comfortable while he went to retrieve the master of the house.

Lucie smiled to herself as Tony ducked out, but it was almost a sad laugh; she'd become oddly close to Tony. She couldn't tell how she knew anything about him either, since she'd only met him once, in his underwear, which wasn't a very good first impression, but since she woke up, she'd spent most of her free time at his tower, watching videos of her and the team, almost getting to know everyone again. When she wasn't at Tony's, asking him thousands of questions or locked in Bruce's old room, she was at Steve's, whom she was surprised to find had adopted her cat, Eri, or she was training with Natasha.

As she explored the house, Lucie found herself sad to have to let these people go. She'd said her goodbyes to Natasha- who promised to drop by sometime in her travels- before she left, and she'd even made sure to see Clint once more before she left, but she didn't want to say goodbye to either Steve or Tony just yet, which was why she made them both come with her-that, and she was scared of facing Dr. Banner-Bruce- alone.

On one of the neat counters, Lucie found a frame facing down, one of those electric ones. She hesitated, not wanting to intrude on Banner's- Bruce's- privacy, but if they were going to be living together anyways… Her curiosity got the best of her, and Lucie's breath caught as she saw what was framed: a short looped video of Lucie sitting on a couch in Stark Tower, laughing as she looked at Bruce, one of his arms around her shoulders. She recognized the clip form one of Tony's videos; they had been laughing at something Steve said to Tony, though they were cut out of the frame. But why would-

Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard the front door open again, signaling Tony's return; she quickly replaced the frame and went to the living room, where she found Tony guiding Bruce by the shoulders, his eyes covered by a makeshift blindfold that looked suspiciously like the tie Tony had worn on the way in.

Lucie started to say something, but Tony held up a finger to his mouth, shushing her; she crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen doorway, doing as she was told.

"I don't see why you can't just tell me," Bruce was saying as Tony closed the door behind them; Steve stayed outside, as planned, because both thought if she became uncomfortable she would go to Steve, which Tony said would be "problematic."

"I can't tell you because it would ruin the surprise," Tony said, pushing his friend into position in the middle of the living room, facing Lucie.

"It's me, Tony. Surprises aren't exactly safe for me," Bruce said; Lucie recognized the irritation in his voice from one of the videos. "Unless Lucie woke up I don't think-"

"Well it's a good thing we're here then," Tony interrupted, untying the blindfold. "She's not perfect, but she's here," he said, uncovering Bruce's eyes.

"Hey, I'm not broken you know," Lucie scowled at Tony.

He shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "I think 'broken' is a relative term."

Lucie started to argue, but Bruce cut her short, speaking quietly. "Lucie, is that really you?"

She turned her attention from Tony to Bruce, finding him staring at her with awe, and shock, and disbelief; she smiled, uncrossing her arms and standing straight. "Hello, Doct- hello, Bruce."

In two strides, before Lucie could properly assess the situation, her face were in his hands, and his mouth was on hers; Lucie fought the urge to push him off, knowing this was something he was used to, but remained otherwise unresponsive to his touch, not even closing her eyes.

Drawing back, Bruce put his forehead to hers, reaching down and taking her hands in his. "Lucie, I can't believe you're okay, I thought you were gone-" Lucie pulled her hands away from Bruce and took half a set back, suddenly more uncomfortable than she could bear; this just wasn't right, for a therapist and her client to be touching so…so intimately. "What's wrong?" he asked her, frowning slightly in confusion.

Lucie hesitated, unsure of how to say it. "I- I'm sorry, Doctor Banner, but…" She took another step back, finding herself against the wall. "This is inappropriate behavior for a therapist and her client."

Bruce's frown deepened. "What do you mean? I-I don't understand, we-"

Tony placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder, silencing him momentarily. "Bruce, Lucie was in a coma, she-"

"I know she was in a coma, I put her in it!" Bruce said, turning to face Tony.

"No, the hulk did," Lucie interrupted from behind Bruce.

He looked back at her. "Who you helped me realized was just a part of me; we were working on trying to control him even when he came out."

"Oh," Lucie gasped. "You never told me that, Tony."

He shrugged, looking completely innocent. "You never told me, I never knew any of this."

"Of course she didn't, it was our thing," Bruce growled. "And now what? You mean to tell me she's forgotten everything? What's the point of bringing her here? She's not Lucie anymore," he spat.

"Of course she's still Lucie, you saw how she snapped at me for calling her broken," Tony argued.

"How can she still be Lucie if everything is gone? She doesn't remember our first time, our first kiss-"

"Yes I do! I remember all of that!" Lucie yelled, finding herself and taking a step forward. "I remember our first time, you were drinking, and in the morning you were mad, but we did it again anyways, and again and again and again-though I don't know why since you were my client! And- and-"

"Our first kiss?" Bruce challenged, turning to face her completely.

"My bedroom, the first night you met my family," she breathed, trying to calm herself down. "That was the first night we spent together too, but we didn't take any of our clothes off."

Bruce eyed her, making Lucie uncomfortable again as she stepped back against the wall again.

"See, Bruce?" Tony said quietly. "She's still Lucie."

Bruce shook his head, turning for the door. "She's Lucie, but not my Lucie."

"Of course she is, what are you-"

Bruce turned on his heel. "That wasn't our first night, Tony. You know that."

Tony said nothing, and Lucie spoke up, quietly at first, until she was sure what she was saying was true. "That's right… Our first entire night together, I was drunk off my ass… I wanted to have a sleepover, but you just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get myself killed… I don't remember any of it, but Tony showed me the video- Jarvis recorded everything, I've seen it all, Bruce." She looked him right in the eye; she wasn't sure she was going to like living with him, but at one point, she'd given up her work ethics for him; that must mean something, and maybe things wouldn't turn out so bad. "I'm not just this…thing, Mr. Ban- Bruce. I cared about you once, I'm sure I can do it again."

No one said anything for a while, then Bruce, eyes cast to the floor, spoke up. "I hate him, you know…"

"Who, Bruce?" Lucie asked, taking a slow step towards him.

He scoffed. "The hulk, of course."

"Why do you hate him?" She took another step.

He shook his head, smiling, but it wasn't… happy. "He ruins everything, takes away everything."

"Hey," Lucie said, hesitantly putting a hand on his cheek, like she'd seen herself do countless times on video; he looked up, his face blank of emotions as she studied the strangely familiar face. "I'll remember someday, just give me time"

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "How long have you been awake?"

She hesitated, not entirely sure herself as she dropped her hand.

"She woke up on the last day of April," Tony offered.

Lucie smiled at Bruce. "And now it's August so that makes…" "Four months," Bruce said, answering his own question. "You've been awake for four months… Why are you just now coming?"

"She wasn't ready," Tony said simply. "She barely knew who we were, when she was."

"Steve helped me the most," Lucie said, remembering how she felt like he was the only one to even remotely understand her confusion, though they had different struggles. "He still doesn't think I'm ready tho- oh, Steve! He's still outside, Bruce, can he come inside now?" she asked, going around him to the door and opening it.

"Sure," he muttered, slightly confused as to why Steve was outside.

"Is everything alright, Miss? Are you all finished?" Steve asked when Lucie opened the door.

She grinned at him. "I think we'll be okay, we just have to…break the news. Come in!"

"What news?" Bruce asked as Steve entered his new home, closing the door behind him. "Nice to see you, Steve," he added, shaking his friend's hand.

"You see Bruce," Tony said, making himself comfortable on one of the armchairs, "Lucie wasn't your only surprise."

"Oh, don't tell me your presence is a gift too?" Bruce said sarcastically as he sat on one side of the couch.

"Well it is," Tony accepted. "But Steve and I are leaving soon. We came only for Lucie's comfort." Bruce turned his attention to Lucie, who smiled shyly from the Steve's side. "Her comfort? I don't understand," Bruce said, turning back to Tony.

"Well to Lucie, you're still a stranger, so she thought it would be odd to tell you she is going to live here, with you, from now on," Tony said, fiddling with his watch.

"What?"

"Surprise…?" Lucie said, chuckling uncomfortably.

"Tony she can't stay here," Bruce argued.

"Wow that backfired," Tony muttered, not paying much attention. "Yeah I figured you'd say that, bring up the whole 'what if it happens again-"

"What if it does? There's no medicine here to keep her alive in a com-"

"So become a doctor, problem solved. You already are, technically." He put up a hand to stop Bruce's argument from developing, speaking quickly. "No, no, no. She's going to stay here; you're going to complain for a bit; we'll skip right on to the part where I convince you to go along with it. We," Tony pointed from himself to Steve, "have already done all we could to help her back home; so has Natasha, and Fury, and Clint. The only two people who could help her anymore are you and her brother." He put up his hand again as Bruce tried to speak once more. "Now, logically she would go to her brother; her family would take care of her, she'd fall in love with a normal human being that is a complete dumbass and she'll be miserable for the rest of her life."

"That wouldn't necessarily ha-"

"Quit it, Lucie," Tony cut her off. "She'd have all these holes in her memory that no one in her family could fill in if they tried and she'd be forced to live a normal life; since she suffered a serious head injury caused by one of her clients, she isn't allowed to work with the Avengers anymore, so she'd know of this fabulous life she once led, we all lead, but she wouldn't be allowed to know anything about it, she'd be denied any and all contact by the Consensus. But if she moved here, lived here from you, the Consensus would never know her location, she could live life as she wanted, with you. You guys could have kids in the future. Buy a nicer house. Or see more of the world. Or both. Either way, you'd have Lucie and she'd have you. I'm not one of those sappy romance guys, but you'd both obviously be happier if she were here." Tony sat back. Crossing his legs when he finished.

"Can I talk now?" Bruce asked; Tony gestured for him to speak and Bruce continued; "I still don't-"

"Oh my, gosh, Bruce," Tony said, sitting forward again. "The decision is made, you don't have a choice!"

"Why don't you want me here?" Lucie asked, stepping forward and sitting next to him on the couch; she pat the spot on the other side of her and Steve joined them, "I thought you would be happy to see me…those videos implied you cared greatly for me, after all…"

Bruce hesitated, turning to her. "I am happy to see you're alive and well, Lucie, but I can't put you in danger like that again."

"Fuck danger," she snapped. "I might not feel the same way as I did before I went into the coma, but goddamn I want to get better and if this is the way then I'm going through with it, and you can't stop me."

Bruce laughed, starting as a quiet chuckle but growing into a proper laugh, which Steve and Tony joined in to.

"Am I funny, Mr. Banner?" Lucie asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry, that was mean," he said, pushing away his amusement. "You just acted so much like yourself there for a moment," he smiled at her.

Lucie's face brightened. "Really? Then I'm making progress already?"

"Possibly," Tony said, sitting back again.

"Yeah, you never really lost that spark, we just have to pull it out of you sometimes," Steve agreed, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest.

Bruce rubbed his face with both hands- a habit Lucie remembered he did when he was stressed. "This is going to take some patience, isn't it?"

"Most definitely," Tony said, starting to stand up. "But I left without telling Cara and she'll probably be pissed, so do you mind if we leave now?"

"We'll walk you," Lucie offered, starting to grow anxious as the reality of her staying here drew closer. "Let's go, D- Bruce."

The group left the house soundlessly, still leaving the door unlocked. On the way to the edge of town where they parked the jet, they filled each other in on what they'd been doing; Bruce was the town doctor, which no one was really surprised by. He'd been checking a boy's stitches when Tony found him, giving the boy some money to run along and pretend he was healthy. Steve had been granted a national pass to any museum, so he was planning on spending the next months seeing the country bit-by-bit, piece-by-piece; he promised to send postcards, though Lucie didn't know how he was going to get them to her, so she didn't get her hopes up. Tony would see where time took things with Cara (if she ever forgave him for ditching) and continue the development of Stark Industries, hoping to change the world more than he already had.

And then it was time to say goodbye.

Lucie sat on the steps to the jet, her arms crossed over her knees as Tony and Bruce said their goodbyes; Steve sat next to her, as silent as ever.

"You know…" Lucie began, her voice quiet. "I think I'm gonna miss you most…"

"Don't think about it then."

"But what if Bruce doesn't like me anymore?"

"Don't be silly. I still like you."

"Yeah, but you're the famous Captain America. You have to be nice and like everyone except the bad guys."

Steve laughed. "Alright, fine, though I don't like Tony too much."

"So why did you come?"

"Because I'm going to miss you too. Because you asked me to." He smiled. "Because I'm the famous Captain America and I have to be nice."

"Gee, thanks," Lucie said, elbowing her friend. "But really, Steve, this stuff is scary…"

"Don't I know it? But everything will be fine, in what will soon feel like no time at all, you'll be fine, everything will be back to normal. I mean, I was thrown in the future seventy years and look at me now, you even taught me how to use a cell phone."

"I did that?"

Steve nodded. "And a lot more."

"But what if Bruce doesn't have that kind of patience for me?"

"He lived with Tony Stark forever; he has the patience. More than I do."

The two fell silent as Tony and Bruce approached them, done with their goodbyes. Lucie stood up and hugged Tony lightly. "Thanks for everything," she said, breaking away from the hug.

"I told you before, I owe Bruce," he said, waving off her thanks.

"You did?"

Tony nodded. "After your first fight. The really bad one."

"I don't remember," she shrugged, trying not to get irritated. "But I'm sure I will. Thanks anyways." She turned to Steve. "And you…" She hugged him, fiercely, not wanting to let go. "Keep in touch okay?" she said before pulling away.

"I will, Miss," Steve said, smiling at her. Lucie felt a lump well up in her throat, but pushed it away as she went to stand next to Bruce.

"Are you okay?" he asked as they watched their friends climb on the jet.

"No," she admitted. "But I will be."

The two said nothing as they waited for engine to start and the jet took off; as it flew over them, the two turned towards home.

"What now, Mr. Banner?"

For a moment, he said nothing. "Now, we go unpack, get you settled in. And try not to call me 'Mr. Banner' or 'Doctor Banner' or anything like that. You had this habit of saying it whenever things got too…personal for you, you used it like a wall."

"Right," Lucie said, scolding herself for not catching it this time. "I'm trying."

As the two walked towards Lucie's new home, Bruce pointed out various shops and homes of local friends; a few times, Bruce introduced her to some people. They were for the most part polite enough, but Lucie go the sense they didn't really trust her or like her, and she found herself wondering if this was because she was a newcomer or an unmarried woman living with an unmarried man she had no relation to; either way, she planned to spend most days at home or helping Bruce however she could.

As the day progressed, the two spoke less and less. In the evening, she climbed into the bed she'd be sharing with Bruce and thought about her new life to come, wondering how she would like it, and praying she would.


	14. 9 Years Later

It was a loud thunderclap that separated the group of children walking home, the girls in they're still-fresh uniforms a few feet ahead of the boys, wrinkled pants muddied from recess.

Most of the children had a game, a race against time to get home before the rain struck; others feared the wrath of their mothers if they got caught in the rain.

One girl, however, cared for neither of those (though, like most of the children, her mother would throw a fit if she got too wet). She ran towards her home on the outskirts of the village as fast as she could, just as the other children. As she ran, her little book bag swinging between her shoulder blades with every step, she stretched her arms out; in her mind's eye, brightly colored feathers sprouted from her arms as her feet left the ground; to the outsider, she was just a child leaping home, dancing in a child's game, but to her, it was reality- until, that is, she made a sharp left turn off the road to her home, towards edge of the woods, not missing a beat as she continued on at full speed.

Coming across a fence, she stopped abruptly, glanced around to make no one was looking, and ducked, climbing under it in a hole she found a few weeks ago. As she stood back up, the thunder clapped again, and she took off into the woods, arms now held close to her side as she ducked under low-hanging branches and slid past bushes.

She stopped in front of one particular bush and crouched down, panting after her long run. She took a breath, holding it to silence herself, and listened. Upon hearing nothing more than the light rain stopped by heavy brush overhead, she gently parted the branches, making sure not to break any. Behind them, as she expected, she found a nest with three small, spotted eggs, still with no parents guarding them. Grinning, she slid her book bag off her shoulders; pushing aside her schoolbooks, she pulled out a small blanket she'd embroidered in class last week and draped it over them. "Papi will be so proud," she whispered to them in a heavy accent. "And now you'll stay nice and warm, even when in the heaviest rains."

""Hey did you hear that? Do you think we're close to town?" a male, American accent said somewhere behind her, making the young girl jump. From her spot near the ground, she could make out the shape of two men a little way off.

"I don't know," another voice said, sounding a little farther away. "Maybe we should call?" there was a small pause in which the child quietly slung her bag back onto her small shoulders.

"No signal. Why don't you climb a tree, Cap?" The girl slowly stood up, but not all the way, creeping back towards the hole in the fence as the voices started getting fainter. When she was confident they wouldn't hear her, she took off running again, stopping only when she found the edge of the woods; glancing around once more, she ducked

under the fence again and ran the rest of the way home; the trees had stopped the rain in the woods, but outside of them, it poured and she was drenched in a matter of seconds.

"Mami, I'm home!" she called from the entryway of the home, dropping her bag and kicking off her shoes to strip down to just her underwear.

"Finally, I was getting worried," she heard her mother call from the kitchen as the child ran into her bedroom. She hid her wet clothes under her bed and quickly changed into a dry uniform to avoid getting in trouble. "What took you so long? Are you hungry? The food is almost ready. Also, your father and I are expecting some old friends later on today." The girl tucked her shirt into her skirt as she made her way from her room to the kitchen.

"Really? Who? I am starving." The girl bounced over to the dining table, proud to have avoided getting in trouble.

"Oh, just some really old friends. They were like family to your father and I before you were born…" Her mother turned, holding two plates. "Go get your father, tell him the food is ready," the mother ordered, leaning down to kiss the top of the girl's head as she set the plates down; the two froze at the same time. "Becca, why is your hair so wet?"

The girl chuckled nervously. "It's raining outside, Mami."

"So why is your clothes dry?" her mother challenged, rubbing the collar of her daughter's uniform between her thumb and forefinger.

The girl forced a smile. "Because my hair caught all the rain from falling on my clothes…?" she tried.

"Rebecca," her mother pushed in that scary-mother voice.

The girl sighed in defeat. "I went into the woods again and I got caught in the rain. I would have been back before it got too bad but I heard these men looking for the town and got scared so when I got out it was already raining gatos y perros!" She was on the verge of tears, worried how bad her mother would react since the woods were forbidden to her.

"What did you say?" her mother demanded, seeming a little off all of a sudden.

"It was raining cats and dogs?"

"I got scared for these two men in the-"

"That's what I thought," her mother frowned. "Go get your father, Becca. I think he fell asleep again."

The girl, confused, nodded and silently slid out of the kitchen and up the narrow stairs to her father's study; as her mother expected, he was snoring lightly, head propped up by his fist and his glasses folded neatly under his hand.

"Papi," she whispered, pulling on his folded up sleeves. "Papi it's the middle of the day, nap time finished earlier." Getting no response, the girl crept under his arm, turning to stand between him and his desk. Placing her hands on either side of her father's face, the girl raised her voice slightly. "Paaaapiiiii!"

The man jolted awake, shock on his face, followed by confusion, followed by recognition. "Becca! When did you get home?" he asked, pulling her onto his lap and giving her a warm hug.

"A few minutes ago," she answered, hugging him back. "Papi, guess what I did today after school?" She grinned with excitement at the news.

"What did you do?" he asked in an enthusiastic voice as he pulled back and reached for his glasses.

The girl helped him open them and slide them onto his face as she spoke. "I went into the woods again, and there as this nest of eggs without any parents watching them, so I put the blanket we made in school on them because I remember you said they would die if they got too cold!" She smiled proudly as she looked into her father's eyes for approval; when she only got hesitation, her smile fell. "What's wrong, Papi?"

Her father sighed, trying to find out how to explain without breaking the child's heart. "It's just that, baby, if you touch a bird's nest, then the mommy and daddy will never come back, because they'll smell you and be afraid."

"So you mean the babies inside will die now?" Becca's lip quivered as her eyes started to tear up.

"No, no, no, they'll live!" her father assured her, putting a comforting hand on her face in attempts to stop the tears. "As soon as it stops raining, we'll go get them and I'll teach you how to bring them home and hatch them at home, okay?" he promised, but a few tears had already escaped.

"And then they won't die?" she sniffed.

"Of course they won't," he assured her, wiping her tears as the girl's smile came back.

"Do we get to teach them how to fly too?" she asked.

The father hesitated briefly, but not enough for her to notice as he pulled a twig out of her wild, brown curls. "Sure, we'll teach them how to fly when they're old enough."

"Thanks Papi!" the girl beamed, throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh, Mami said the food is ready so you have to come eat now," she said, quickly sliding off his lap and pulling him by the hand to the door.

She froze at the top of the stairs, though, when she heard a man's voice.

"What's the matter?" her father asked as the girl with her mother's fierce spirit stepped behind him.

"I know that voice, I heard it in the woods today," she whispered as she let him lead her downstairs. Her mother laughed, joined with another man's laugh, and the girl moved closer to her father as the two stepped into the kitchen to find the two men seated with Becca's mother at the table.

"Wow, look at this guy! It's like a ghost from the past!" one of the men said; he was older than the other, with a beard and dark but definitely graying hair.

"From someone who's _seen_ ghosts from his past, it really is," the other said; this one was blond, with a smoothly shaven face.

"Tony! Steve!" her father said as the two strangers stood up. The blond hugged him briefly before sitting back down, while her father and the other man hugged tighter, more familiarly. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see Tony Stark in my home," her father said with a fond smile as the two broke away. "How've you been?" he asked.

The one with the darker hair sat down, still smiling warmly. "I've honestly never been happier in my life."

Becca's mother stood abruptly, wiping a tear from her eyes and moving towards the kitchen.

"Honey, are you alright?" her husband asked, going to her, but she pushed him away.

"I'm fine, Becca, could you help me with the food?" she asked; Becca was only too grateful to go with her.

"So that's the infamous Becca?" she heard the blond ask as she followed her mother away.

"Mami why are you crying?" the girl asked in Spanish. "And why were those people in the woods today? Don't they know it's not allowed?"

Her mother smiled down at her. "I'm just so happy to see them again. I haven't seen Tony since you were just a few weeks old, and it was only briefly, and I haven't seen Steve in…" she paused as she thought, washing her hands in the sink. "Wow, it must be over ten years by now…" she finished in perfect Spanish she'd learned in her years there.

"That's a long time to be friends without seeing each other," Becca pointed out, standing on her tiptoes to wash her hands as her mother dried her own.

"Yes, it is…" The two worked in silence, the mother reminiscing and the daughter wondering about the strange men from her parents' past. The two rarely said anything about their past, the one time being during a thunderstorm, when Becca had run into their parents' room crying. They'd assured her the thunder was a friend they once knew, that it would never hurt her because of the friendship they once shared; when she recounted the tale to her teacher, the teacher had told her it was nothing more than that: a tale. Becca quickly forgot about it until now, but never feared the thunder again.

When the plates were ready, the girl helped her mother carry the dishes to the dining table, and sat down between her parents. She said nothing as she ate, just listened to the adults catch up as she watched them, particularly the one that met her as a baby; whenever either of the men caught her looking, she'd quickly turn back to her plate, focusing on not eating her vegetables unless her mom was looking.

After a few rounds of eye-tag, the older one, Tony, spoke up. "You know, Lucie, Bruce, the last time I saw you guys, I could hold your little brat in one hand."

"Hey, I'm not a brat!" Becca huffed, then quickly shut her mouth and shoved some more food in her mouth.

"So she talks!" he grinned. "And here I thought the hulk raised a mute."

Steve, the blond, seemed an uncomfortable kind of amused when Lucie shot Tony a look that Becca had seen her send her father a hundred times.

"What's the hulk?" the girl asked. When no one really responded except for an awkward cough from Steve, she turned to her father. "Papi?"

He cleared his throat and took a sip from his glass. "The hulk is another old friend, like the thunder," he said quietly, in a tone she usually translated as, 'we'll talk about it later.'

She mumbled an okay and Steve tried to change the mood again. "So, Becca, how old are you?"

She looked at the man with the friendly face. "Cinco," she said, testing him.

"Wow, five! You're practically a grown-up," he exclaimed, and she grinned.

"You guys are from America, right?" she asked, curious. "What's it like there?"

Tony spoke up this time. "Fantastic, am I right, Cap?"

"Why do you call him 'Cap' if his name is Steve? I heard you call him that in the woods."

"Well his guy, we call him Captain, Cap for short, cause he's pretty much the dictator of America," Tony said nonchalantly.

"Tony!" Her mother scolded.

He just shrugged and continued chewing while Steve spoke up. "You see Becca, when your mother and father were younger, there was a time when the world needed more heroes," he started slowly, waiting to see if Lucie would stop him; she seemed tense to her daughter, but Bruce seemed worse.

"Heroes? You mean like the officers who protect the city? The men with guns?" She remembered them from a parade she'd been to with her father a few months ago.

"Sort of, but a little more powerful." Tony raised an eyebrow at the Captain. "Well, a lot more powerful. The world needed protecting, and your father, Tony and I were there to help it." He smiled at Lucie. "Of course, none of it could have happened without your mother being there to keep us all sane."

"If I remember correctly," Tony cut in, smirking, "Lucie was the one going crazy most of the time."

The three men laughed, Lucie tried to stifle her laughter, and Becca went back to being silent as the adults continued their reminiscing.


	15. Sweatpants

So this one seems to kind of cut off at the end... A lot of them kind of do that, and that's because the way this thing started off was my cousins and I had a time limit, usually around 20 minutes, and we had to write as much as possible in that time, so wherever it ends is where the 20 minutes finished. I might go on at a later date to finish them, but for now... Enjoy! :)

* * *

Lucie leaned against the wall waiting for Bruce to open the door. She listened to him fumble with the lock on the other side and sighed. Naturally, he wasn't prepared, even though she called him from the car to open the door.

The door opened and he stuck his head out, looking around. "Hello?"

She straightened and peeled off the wall, eyes half closed in slight annoyance as she tried to calm herself. "I'm right here, didn't I tell you to open the door a few minutes ago?"

"I did but you weren't…" She shot him a look and he started over. "Hello Lucie, I'm sorry I didn't open the door before you got here."

She smiled. "Hello Dr Banner. Don't worry about it, it's open now so shall we begin?"

He looked over her shoulder down the hall of Stark Tower. "Sure I guess. Should we move to the living room?"

She frowned. "Why would we do that? We'd have no privacy there," she said, pushing him inside with her fingertips, not giving him the option of inviting her in. She skimmed over the room once; it was very simple, and organized.

"Um, okay," he said, closing the door behind her. "So what are we going to do here?" he asked, shuffling uncomfortably in the corner.

"Well we're going to talk," she said, making her way to an armchair in a corner, pulling a folder and a pen out of her bag. She looked up from where she sat and frowned.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked.

"You're not very good at this having company thing, are you?" she asked.

"Not really," he answered, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight to one foot. "It's been awhile."

"Obviously," she said, sighing. "You're even in sweatpants… Well first you have to sit down," she said, gesturing to the perfectly made bed.

He hesitated, but did as she told him. "Like this?" he asked.

She smiled. "Well that's generally how people sit, yes, but relax. I don't bite."

"Right…" he muttered. "You're analyzing me again," he said in a confident voice, the first time she'd heard it since her arrival.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"You're tilting your head. You only do that when you're analyzing something. You did it when Clint was telling his story the other day too, the one about the shark."

She raised an eyebrow. "Right."

"It's true."

She looked down, shuffling her papers. "Impressive, Mr. Banner." She folded her hands on her lap and looked at him. "What else?"

"What?" Now it was his turn to be confused.

"What was the point in telling me that?"

"Uh…"

She rolled her eyes. "How has your day been, Mr. Banner?" she asked.

"What?"

"I asked you a question, a simple one at that," she said, clicking her pen open.

"It was… Okay I guess," he said, looking at the floor. "How was yours?"

"It was fine, thanks for asking. What was okay about your day?"

"I guess it's back to business," he muttered. "Well I woke up as usual, showered as usual, dressed as usual."

She drew a circle on a page and filled it in, pretending she was writing something. "Has there been anything unusual about today?" she asked.

"Well…" he hesitated.

"Well?"

"Nope, nothing," he said cheerfully.

"Well _that's_ unusual," she said, drawing a swirl coming off the circle.

"Is it?" he asked.

"You don't normally answer with that tone. So I think you're lying to me," she said simply. "But no matter, if you don't want to say something, you don't have to." She stopped the swirl and abruptly drew one in the opposite direction.

"I don't?"

"Nope," she said, popping the _p_. "It's kind of like the law, you know? You have the right to remain silent but anything you say can and will be used against you? All that jazz." She drew another shape, like a pointy oval to the side of the paper. "Except, I can't really repeat anything you say. What happens in here stays in here. Sooo, if you're lying it's no big deal." she said, looking up. "Except then I can't help you."

"Why can't you help me?"

"Really, for a doctor you don't know much," she muttered under her breath. "Because then I don't know how you're feeling and what you're thinking."

"You know you get kind of robotic when you're insisting on being professional," he said.

"I'm always professional," she said, going back to her pointy oval.

"The other night, you weren't."


	16. Weapons

Being on the helicarrier made Lucie nervous; the city girl never liked to fly in the first place (flying back home from California during college was hell for her and everyone near her), and she couldn't fathom how a hundred people standing around on something hundreds, thousands of feet above the ocean could feel safe. If the engines faltered or something, they'd crash _very_ quickly into the ocean, where she would either drown or being eaten alive by sharks; neither of which sounded pleasant to her. Bruce tried to explain to her that there were multiple engines and procedures in place in case anything malfunctioned, but she wouldn't hear it; if something made by man could malfunction, their backup plans could malfunction as well.

Giving up on her hysteria, Bruce fell silent in the cold, hard break room. He'd brought her tea (he knew how much she liked it when she wanted to relax) while they waited for Fury to finish his meeting, but Lucie's jumping at every miniscule sound persisted.

So when the door finally opened, she spilled the still-full mug over the table and onto the floor.

"Sorry!" she yelled, standing the cup up and rushing to the corner of the room where the 'kitchen nook' was to find paper towels; Bruce followed after her, muttering an apology to Nick Fury, and while Lucie frantically threw open cupboards, he casually grabbed a roll of paper towels off the top of the counter. "Oh… I feel dumb," she told Bruce, quietly so Fury wouldn't hear.

He smiled reassuringly, taking a few paper towels. "Don't, just take a deep breath, relax." He put the roll in her hands and led her by the elbow back towards Fury. "Compose yourself," he whispered into her ear and started wiping off the tea. After a moment of wondering what to do, Lucie tore off a paper towels and followed Bruce's example. It was odd, she felt; a little more than a year ago, she was guiding him through life and now, he was practically teaching her how to clean up spilt coffee.

"I see you two have gotten close," Fury acknowledged.

The two exchanged a glance, and Bruce spoke up; "She's been our therapist for over a year, the whole team feels more or less, but definitely more, comfortable by now; I think if we didn't she wouldn't be doing her job right."

"I see," Fury said, eyeing the couple. "You've developed close relations with all the Avengers then?"

"You told Bruce you wanted us to come in?" Lucie broke in, suddenly remembering she was appointed by the Consensus, not Fury. "I assumed our relations aren't what you wanted to speak to us about, right?" She straightened, placing a hand on her hip.

Fury looked at her. "You are correct, however I'm sure the Consensus would be interested in a report on your development."

"Thank you very much," Lucie snapped, "but I've written them monthly reports. Actually," she added, "the last one I sent was received three days ago, and they already called me in to talk about it. My cat jumped through the hologram, and the Board had quite a fright at it." She paused. "I'm sure they'd be more interested in the fact that each of our own sessions are cut short by a 'disturbance' and much less than half happen in person."

Bruce stifled a laugh as he moved to throw out the spoiled paper toweld.

Fury cleared his throat. "Good to know you're on top of things. But you're right; your work isn't what you've been called in for."

"Then what is it?" Bruce asked, returning from the trash bin.

"Thor, the God of Thunder, sent us a message a few days ago."

"Thor?" Lucie frowned, looking from Fury up at Bruce, who stood slightly behind her at her elbow; Bruce returned the look and the two looked back at Fury.

"What did he say?" Bruce asked warily.

"You might want to sit down," Fury suggested, and the two did, though the Director remained standing; under the table, Bruce held Lucie's hand in her lap. "You are aware of the fact that Thor took his brother, Loki, the God of Mischief, back to Asgard after he invaded the Earth with his army of Chitauri, am I correct, Lucie?"

She looked at Bruce, who nodded at her. "Yes, it's kind of a known thing. But that was, what, two years ago, little more than that?"

"We've received word that he has escaped," Fury announced.

"What do you mean 'escaped'?" Bruce demanded.

"Thor said a few weeks ago, Loki disappeared from his prison cell; they've been searching the realms for him ever since, and they're only now letting Earth know about it," Nick Fury explained.

"So what does this mean? Have you told the Consensus?" Lucie asked, suddenly even more uncomfortable being on the ship.

"We have a meeting in a few minutes; I'll tell them then, but Natasha convinced me you need to be prepared in case anything happens since you're a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. now," Nick surmised.

"Natasha knows about this? Have you told any of the other Avengers?" Bruce asked.

"Tony knew before most of the people onboard, Mr. Banner, not surprisingly."

"Why wasn't I made aware of it earlier then?" Bruce inquired.

"Last time S.H.I.E.L.D needed your help, Mr. Banner, you tried to refuse us; the only reason you joined was the fact that you were the only man for the job." Fury paused. "I only assumed you wouldn't want anything to do with this unless there was no other option."

Bruce fell silent, so Lucie spoke up. "What is it that I'm here for, then? I'm not exactly a fighter, I have nothing to offer other than mental help."

"Which is exactly why we called you here." He hesitated. "Natasha seems to have taken quite a liking to you, Lucie." She frowned, confused. Sure, Natasha never avoided her or anything, but she was almost impossible to talk to when the focus was on her; most sessions were spent talking about things going on around Natasha, not anything deep about her; the woman was practically a stranger to Lucie still. "She demands that you be trained to use a weapon or two, at the very least in self defense."

"A weapon? No, I don't know how to fight!" Lucie argued.

"Which is exactly why she insists on training you herself. Doctor Reyes," he continued before she could argue anymore. "Last time Loki was here, he tried to use the hulk to get to us. If he knew about your relationship with Doctor Banner," he nodded at Bruce, and the two exchanged a glance before letting go of each other's hands, "then he might try to use you to get to the hulk."

"No disrespect, Sir, but Loki is an extremely intelligent being," Bruce interrupted. "I don't think he'll make the mistake of going after the hulk again."

"We have no idea of knowing that," Fury countered. "And even if he doesn't go after the hulk, Lucie still has access to information on everyone on board; she knows everyone's strengths and weaknesses, and if he found that out, I have no doubt he'd use that."

Bruce sank back, exhaling in stress.

"I think you'd agree with me that you don't want Lucie getting hurt, Mr. Banner, and training her could prevent that."

"As if teaching me how to use a weapon would protect me from a guy who can freeze me to death with a look!" Lucie exclaimed.

"Maybe not," Fury began, but Bruce cut him off.

"But we don't know he can still do that. 'Odin giveth and Odin taketh' in mythology; who's to say he didn't take away Loki's powers before throwing him in prison?"

"Oh my god, Bruce, do you really think the guard just gave Loki the key? You think that's how he escaped?" Lucie questioned, rubbing her face in frustration.

"No, but-" Bruce began, but Lucie cut him off; they were on friendlier terms than a few months ago, but she still hadn't broken the habit.

"But you think it would help. Fine Bruce, I'll humor you," she spat.

He knew she was mad at him, but he smiled at her anyways. "Thank you."

She turned away from him and looked at Fury. "When does my training begin?"

Fury cleared his throat, made uncomfortable by Lucie snapping at Bruce. "Natasha said she'd start tomorrow. Before you leave, I'll have someone give you the information on where to meet her, somewhere on steady ground."

"Oh god I forgot we were in the air," Lucie gasped. "Oh shit- oh god, sorry, Fury. Okay, we need to leave, Bruce let's go," she said, standing up. "Thanks, Director."

"Thank you for your cooperation," Fury said politely.

"Ah, sure, can we please get off this thing?" she asked Bruce, tugging at his shirt.

"Is that all, Director? What was I needed for?" Bruce asked, standing up.

"To convince her," Fury said simply. "Natasha told us how hard this would be."


	17. Books

Note: I actually really love Loki, both in mythology and pop-culture. I think he's fascinating and I'd love to sit down with him for a couple eternities and find out what goes on in his mind.

* * *

The chapel.

Lucie wasn't religious, but it was still one of her favorite places in the city.

Every Sunday morning for three months, she'd waited for Steve in the prayer room while he attended mass. She could listen to monks and nuns chant hymns for hours, and even when there were other people, her thoughts were never interrupted. She adored the votive altar, and loved the statues of the saints. Her favorite was a statue of St. Juliana Falconieri; the way her robes seemed to flow like water, and the way candle flames cast dancing shadows mesmerized Lucie. She often lost track of time staring at the statues and ornate illustrations, and Steve would give her a fright when he found her after mass. Other times she'd be absorbed in the stories in the Bible when he found her. She didn't believe most of it in the slightest, but she understood why people would want to. There was comfort woven in the old tales, and the fact that every generation knew the tales connecting the elders to the youth.

Today, she sat in a pew reading the Bible when the click of Steve's Sunday shoes entered the room; he stepped lightly as to not disturb the other prayers in the room. He put a steady hand on her shoulder and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Ready to go?"

She glanced up at him, then held up a hand as she finished the story she was on: the story of Cain and Abel. When she reached the last line, she closed the book.

"Ready?" he whispered again.

She nodded, standing up and letting him lead her to the exit. Outside, she shielded her eyes from the harsh light of the sun. "How was mass?"

Steve shrugged as they walked the same path to the same library. Reading in the library after mass was part of the Sunday tradition; afterwards, they'd eat brunch at a café nearby. "It was nice. I still don't feel comfortable with where church has taken things. But the singing brings this sense of unity…"

Lucie smiled, knowing he was happy. "It's nice."

"Yes," he agreed. "It's nice. I think you'd like it." This was Steve: dropping little hints that she should join him next time.

"I doubt I could wake up early enough to be ready on time," she lied. This was Lucie: dropping little hints that she wouldn't join him next time.

"Perhaps the Lord will give you the energy," he joked in a mock-priest voice. She laughed, and he smiled. "So what did you read today?"

"Cain and Abel," she said cheerfully.

"Ah, the fated brothers."

"Indeed. I feel sorry for Cain."

"Why is that?"

"He only ever wanted his father's pride and love."

"By smiting his brother?"

Lucie pursed her lips. "Well first off, I wouldn't exactly call it _smiting_. And secondly, so maybe he went about it the wrong way. He had good intentions."

"Funny," Steve said dryly. "Thor said the same about his own brother."

Lucie froze. "There is nothing similar between the two. Cain was nothing more than a child wanting love. Evil was barely a true thing, the boy had no way of knowing the difference. Loki is foul and a monster. A 'God of Evil' in mythology, if I recall correctly."

"And what ever happened to 'don't judge a book by its cover'? It doesn't apply to aliens?" He was referring to when they first met, when Lucie promised not to judge him by his file and to get to know him through her own interaction with him.

"I've seen the footage of when he came to earth," she said coldly as she resumed her swift stride with Steve at her heels. They were almost to the library now.

"Well you passed the test, Miss Reyes."

She stopped again, and Steve almost bumped into her.

"What test, Steve?" she asked, her voice threatening.

"Well," he hesitated and started walking again. Lucie followed.

"Well?"

"You know how most of the team feels about you, right?"

"They don't trust me," she said stiffly.

"That's because they think you might be working for Loki."

"But that's ridiculous, Thor took him back to Asgard!" She didn't know much about the mysterious land, but she knew it wasn't easy to get there. Or here.

"But there was a time in which no one knew where he was. You could have been-"

"Recruited?" she spat. "Yeah, right. Because he'd have so much use for-"

"No offense, Miss, but if we fed you all our fears and loves, Loki could use that against us." They were in front of the old library now. From the outside it looked like a cathedral; the interior confirmed it once was, but the pews had been ripped out and replaced with bookcases when a fire destroyed it beyond repair- or at least, beyond what the modest church could pay.

"Steve, he's on Asgard." She stopped at the bottom of the steps up to the library.

Steve turned to stand a few steps above her. "I understand that. But regardless, that is how the team felt."

She bit her lip, sightly hurt but unable to blame or be angry with any of them. "The whole team?"

He hesitated. "At first." Seeing her face drop, he quickly continued. "But I stopped believing that very shortly after meeting you, and I know Bruce did too."

Lucie smiled up at her friend. At least he and Doctor Banner trusted her, and she'd only met with the physicist few times. "So what now? You'll tell them I called Loki a monster and they'll start trusting me? Doesn't sound very likely."

Steve smiled at her, offering an arm. "That's because it's not, Miss. But they'll learn to. Now, shall we enjoy our morning?"

She climbed the steps, closed the distance, and took the arm. "Let's, Mister Rogers."

The pair walked arm in arm to the cathedral doors. Upon reaching them, Steve step aside and held the door open: the doors to shelves upon shelves of stories pressed tightly between carefully bound books, stories connecting the authors of the past to readers of the present, and readers of the future.


	18. Bruce's Birthday

The evening was coming to a nice close.

The day had started hectic; Tony insisted on throwing a party for Bruce, and the tower had been filled with people no one knew. Well, hopefully Tony knew them. But after all, this was "Bruce's day."

Thankfully, Lucie and Bruce escaped without Tony's interference; they'd retreated to Lucie's home, where they continued the celebration alone.

Lucie found it odd still that people celebrated their birthdays, but that was something she liked about Bruce; he didn't 'celebrate' it, others celebrated for him.

And by others, she meant Tony, who just wanted a reason to drink without Cara stopping him. Though how much his plans were working tonight, Lucie had no idea.

But hers were, and that was all that mattered at this point of the evening.

The two sat on the couch; Lucie's bare legs draped over Bruce, who sat close to her, running a rough hand over her smooth legs. They'd been drinking, and the conversation ran lightly for once, as it so rarely did: bad concerts from their teen years, bad fashion fads, bad books, bad movies. Though a few times Lucie had to hold herself back from getting defensive with him, it was pleasant. As the conversation slowed, as the wine finished, as the night grew longer, Lucie became increasingly aware of Bruce touching her.

"So you had a nice day?" she asked as a round of laughs slowed.

"The day was a little…terrible," he admitted, smiling, and Lucie chuckled, "but the night has been nice. How about you?"

"It's been nice, but it could be better," she said, twirling a lock of his hair around one of her fingers.

"How so?" Bruce asked, and she sat up slightly.

"Well," she said, positioning herself in a straddle, cupping his face in her hands. "You could let me give you my birthday gift to you."

Bruce smiled. "And what is that?"

Lucie lowered herself down to Bruce, kissing him. His hands went to her hips, and she felt him trying to hold her at a distance, but Lucie pulled herself closer; she broke the kiss, and still holding his face, she looked into his eyes. "Happy birthday, Mr. Banner."

He smiled at her. "Happy birthday."

Lucie giggled. "That's not what you're supposed to say," she said, pecking him with a kiss. "You're supposed to thank me."

"Sorry, I'm not used to this birthday stuff," he apologized, kissing her again. She deepened the kiss, her hands moving from his face to his shoulders; slowly she went from his shoulders to his chest, carefully starting on the buttons of his shirt; his hands fell down to the back of her legs, pulling her body closer to his. "We really shouldn't," he muttered against her lips despite how his body reacted to her.

"Shh," she whispered, trailing his jaw with kisses as she continued working on his buttons; reaching the last one, she went back to his mouth and started on her shorts, but Bruce grabbed her wrists, stopping her. She stopped kissing him and frowned down at him. "What, are you gay or something?"

"No, I just don't want to do…" his eyes drifted down and shot back up, and Lucie laughed. "What?"

"You're so shy sometimes," she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him again. Leaning back, she felt like a teenager again as she pulled him with her, and she liked it, enjoying the heat of his chest against hers.

In one swift movement, Bruce turned them so they lay on their sides, making Lucie gasp in surprise. He moved from her lips to her neck, his fingers teasing the seams of her shorts. Breathing heavily, she grinned, her face buried in his neck as he worked hers. "I lo-." Her voice caught, her heart pounded in her chest, and she thanked the lords Bruce had taken the sound which escaped her lips as a moan.

Only when he tugged with more force at her shorts did Lucie forget the words she almost said, knowing she always had tomorrow to figure out how she felt.

* * *

Lucie awoke wrapped in Bruce's arms, feeling satisfied for the first time in months as the sun shone through her blinds, casting shadows across the man's chest. She laid there a few minutes, savoring the heat of his bare body against hers, but also making plans with herself to stop by a clinic in the next few hours. Kissing his chest, she slid off Bruce and rolling off the bed, Lucie quickly made her way to the bathroom, turning on the shower; leaving the door open just a crack, she stood in the stream of hot water, shuddering as it weighed down her tangled hair and ran down her body, letting the heat numb her. She must have been a good hour.

When she was done, she wrapped a towel tightly around her body, letting her hair drip around her. Peeping her head out the door, she saw Bruce still in bed, his arms behind his head.

"Bruce," she whispered, hoping he was asleep.

"Hmm?"

She hesitated, glancing around her room from behind the bathroom door. "Are you asleep?" she asked, still whispering.

She watched his chest shake with laughter and frowned. "No, Lucie, I'm not asleep anymore," he said, a smile obvious in his voice.

"Well I need you to go back to sleep now," she ordered, raising her voice to a normal level.

Bruce propped himself up on his elbows, smiling at her; Lucie's eyes skimmed over his chest and darted back to his face. "Why's that?" he asked.

"Because I'm naked, obviously," she said, rolling her eyes at him.

"So?" he smirked. When she said nothing, his smirk turned to a genuine smile. "Come here."

"But I'm naked," she said again, her frown deepening.

"Again, I ask, so?" He sat up, the blanket sliding a little further down.

"I'm soaking wet," she pointed out, letting the door open a little more so he could see for himself. "I'll get the bed wet."

"Bring a towel then. I wasn't done holding you."

Lucie scrunched her nose up. "That's disgustingly sweet," she remarked, then smiled before grabbing another towel and joining him on the bed, the spare towel spread out underneath her. The two laid back, arms around each other. "Did you have fun last night?" Lucie asked.

Bruce breathed in deeply, and she knew she wouldn't like the answer. "About that… I'm kind of mad at you for that."

Lucie shifted so she laid on top of him, her chin on his chest, only a damp towel separating the two bodies. "But you enjoyed it."

"Why didn't you stop me, Lucie?"

"Because," she said, kissing the middle of his chest, leaving a trail of kisses up to the base of his neck as she spoke, lifting herself as the friction of their bodies slid the towel. "I wanted it at least as much as you did."

"Lucie," he complained, though his voicewas shaky and she knew she was winning already as she kissed his jaw. "You know what I said about it." Letting the towel fall open, she straddled him, sucking on his neck. "You know how I..." Lucie continued as the last of his will evaporated, stopping only when a moan vibrated against her lips.

She slid off of him but kept her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies together. Bruce caressed her face with one hand, brushing her damp hair away from her face.

"I wish you wouldn't manipulate me so much," he said, watching her watch him. She wondered if he remembered the words he'd whispered in her ear the night before, wondered if he meant them, wondered if she'd ever be able to say them back.

She inhaled deeply, untangling herself from him and turning away. "I wish you wouldn't ruin every nice moment." Her comment made her laugh and she turned back to him.

"So I ruin the good times now? I turn away and tell and scream and kick?"

"You make me sound like a child throwing a tantrum,"

"Sometimes you are," he teased, kissing her forehead. Their hands found each other, and their fingers locked together.

Lucie watched their hands connect with slight disbelief. She barely recognized herself; six months ago she would never touch Bruce's hands in such a way, much less the rest of his body. She wouldn't stay in bed with someone either, let alone return to bed with them. Nor would she sleep with a man in her house.

But the disbelief was paired with content.

She could no longer deny even to herself she cared for this man; that much was beyond obvious in how she watched him with her blue eyes. Or how her heart fluttered when he was nearby. Or how she wanted nothing more than to see him when he wasn't there or feel him when he wasn't close.

It actually sickened her, how attached she'd grown to this man, how greatly she longed for his touch.

But as much as she tried, the words still couldn't come to her lips again.

Which is why she let go of his hand and started pushing on his shoulder. "I need you to go."

"Go where?"

She sat up, using a towel to cover her bare chest. "Away. Shower. Or change. Actually both."

He raised an eyebrow at her, propping himself up on his elbows. "And what am I supposed to wear?"

"You can wear some of my brother's old clothes. I'm sure you guys are around the same size. I'll bring your clothes by later."

He sat up, the blankets sliding down to reveal more of his skin. Lucie watched him from she lay, practicing how the words would sound. She sat up as well, sliding her hands down his chest from behind as she kissed his neck. "I'm going to get dressed now. I'll leave the clothes on the bed."

Wrapping her towel around her, she left him to his thoughts as she went to her closet.


	19. Jealousy

This takes place at the end of the weekend where Bruce meets her family. Just thought I should clear that up.

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Lucie left the small rest room and returned to her place next to Bruce. "Ready to go home?"

Bruce moved his legs out of the way so she could get to the window seat. "Are you?"

"Not really." She sank into her seat, turning to the window. Bruce took her hand- an act that had become all too familiar in the past few days. She pulled away, folding her hands in her lap.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked, his eyes focused on her.

Lucie sighed, meeting his eyes. "This has to stop."

"What? This?" He kissed her, running his fingers through her hair as he did so. Though she tried to fight it, she smiled when he pulled away, her eyes still closed as his lips moved to kiss the tops of her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids.

She grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away and pushing him back. "Bruce, please. Don't make this harder than it needs to be," she pleaded, turning back to the window. She longed to touch him the way he touched her, but she had to be a therapist to him before all else.

A flight attendant walked briskly down the aisle, checking the overhead luggage compartments as he went.

"I don't understand why it needs to stop."

Lucie looked at him again. "It- it's not professional."

Bruce took her hands again, and this time she didn't pull back as he ran his thumb softly over her knuckles, smiling. "What is it you always say then? 'Fuck professionalism'?"

Lucie smiled down at their hands. "I can't do that, Bruce."

"Why not?" he demanded.

The desolation in his voice caused her to meet his eyes once more; the anguish in them tore at her, but she kept her face clean of emotion and held her own voice steady. "Because I care about your well being too much, I don't want to hurt you, and I want to help you as much as I possibly can."

"_My_ well being?" he scoffed. "_Mine?_ Now you're just being ridiculous, Lucie. I'm the one who-"

"Lower your voice, you're getting loud."

Bruce took two deep breaths before he continued. "Lucie, if there's anyone at risk of getting hurt here, it's you."

Lucie took a breath, cursing herself for what she was about to say. "Then use that as a reason to keep your distance. Otherwise, I can't help you."

"Maybe I don't want your help."

"If that's the case, then there's no point in seeing you at all. It would...be too much if I didn't help in every way possible."

"In every way possi- you can help most by-"

"Bruce, please," she interrupted, anticipating his next words. "The other night, in my bed-" she felt her cheeks flush at the memory- "I told you then that this would have to stop when we got back home."

Bruce let go of her hand, turning away from her. "Then maybe we should have kept pretending there was nothing between us."

Lucie felt her eyes start to burn in her attempt to not yell at him. "Oh, Bruce," she sighed, dropping her head into her hands and digging the heels of her palms into her eyes. How could anyone be so stupid- so wrong- about how someone felt?

Bruce dropped his voice, softening it. He said her name, but she said nothing; he touched her shoulder, gently, but she shrugged him off, giving him no other option than to sit back in his seat. They sat like that in silence until the intercom came on telling them to fasten their seat belts and prepare for flight. Lucie sat up and buckled herself in, but avoiding looking at Bruce; instead, she looked out the window once more, watching the concrete roll away below them.

"I wish I was my brother sometimes," she said, her tone flat.

"So you could live in Bethany?" he asked in an equally flat tone. "You could just move back."

Lucie shook her head. He still didn't get it. "I don't care about where I live."

She let Bruce lull over the words for a bit. "Then I don't understand."

She sighed, taking his hand again. The poor boy would probably get whiplash from all her mixed signals. "I want to be him," she began, taking a moment to savor the strength and warmth of his hands. "Because he doesn't have to restrain himself." She laced their fingers together- "I get jealous because I want this-" she let go- "but I have a- a commitment. I've already broken it so many times." She laughed, one harsh, bitter laugh. "I probably shouldn't even be your therapist anymore." She spat the word, angry that it got in the way.

Bruce fell silent until the seat belt light turned off. "Then don't be."

"What?"

"Don't be my therapist. Quit."

"I- I can't quit!" she sputtered in disbelief. "If I quit, I quit on everyone, not just you."

"So quit anyways," Bruce pushed. "Just be a friend."

"Bruce that's crazy. The Consensus would never- if I quit, that's the end of the line. They'd never allow contact with any of you."

"They couldn't really-"

"I'd rather not test them," she said firmly, and once more, they fell silent.

The flight attendant walked down the aisle again, pushing the refreshment cart, and Lucie took an iced tea.

"You know," she said quietly when the steward moved on. "Sometimes I think I'd be happier without my brother ever being born." She ripped open a sugar packet and watched as the pure white crystals fell into the amber drink.

"Why do you think that?" Bruce asked, perplexed.

"Because if he hadn't been born, my mom wouldn't be dead, and I wouldn't have been angry, and I wouldn't be a therapist, and this would be simple, as simple as Leo and Cher have it. None of this wondering how wrong I am in my actions and feelings... They're even getting married, Bruce..."

He caressed her face, turning her to face him; "You love your brother, Lucie. More than anything. And if you weren't a therapist,we never would have met."

"But Bruce, they're getting _married_."

"Do you want to get married?" he asked.

Lucie hesitated to answer. Last time she said yes, it ended badly. And she didn't think she liked Bruce that much; she didn't want to give him false hope, but she also didn't want to scare him off so soon. And yet...she didn't want to share him.

"Maybe someday..." She didn't meet his eye when she said it.

"Maybe someday you'll meet someone better where things aren't complicated."

_But I don't want to meet someone better._

It bothered her, how she sounded like a stupid teenager to herself. But she needed to stay focused on what was important, not her own selfish, silly feelings. "So you'll stop?"

Bruce smiled, but it obviously wasn't genuine. "If you'll be happier, yes."

She wrapped an arm around his neck, pulled him down, and kissed him softly, but he pulled away. "We don't need to stop until we land," she assured him.

He smiled at her again. "Isn't that unprofessional?"

"Fuck professionalism." This time he kissed her, and it was filled with a sort of desperation which Lucie fully returned.


	20. First Time

_I'm sorry if this one makes you uncomfortable because of the content! I'm thinking about taking this down and re-loading in chronological order, but at the same time I know I'll probably go back and add bits and pieces anyways... Well this one takes place quite some time after they get back from Bethany, NY. Sorry it's so short but hey it might actually be a proper drabble!  
_

* * *

Lucie collapsed on top of Bruce and buried her face into his neck as they both tried to catch their breath in the darkness of her room. Drenched in each other's sweat, the two laid limp in a state of complete euphoria. Lucie relished the beat of Bruce's heart pounding in synch with hers. She wrapped an arm around his neck and somehow managed to pull herself even closer to him than she already was; simultaneously, his hands, his arms, tightened their loose grip on her bare skin.

Though neither spoke, for the first time, they knew.

"Happy birthday, Bruce." Her whisper was almost a whimper from her ecstasy; Bruce again tightened his hold, and pressed his lips to the top of her head.


	21. Captain

_Just to tease a friend and shut the door in her face and leave it open just a crack to bother her._

* * *

The door was unlocked.

Any normal person would have worried, but Steve only smiled.

Next was a set of keys with a familiar silver chain attached.

Then, a light pouring into the hallway from his living room.

The Captain shook his head as he hung up his jacket in the coat closet and his keys next to the other pair.

Stopping in the kitchen, he found more signs of a disturbance: dirty dishes in the sink and an open jug of orange juice on the counter. He smiled again as he loaded the dishes into the dishwasher and threw out the remainder of the probably spoiled juice. 11:09 pm, the stove clock read. He briefly wondered how long she'd been there as he left the kitchen, a glass of water in each hand.

As the hall opened into the living room, he realized the light was actually from the television. He frowned, finding this strange; usually, when he came home to find Lucie, she was reading or taking out her frustration in his weight room. He always thought she used the TV even less than he did, which was rare enough.

When he saw Bruce Banner on screen, he froze- did the Consensus already catch up with him? Did he get in some trouble with the law? Why was he on the news?

It wasn't until he registered the fact that he was smiling did he start to piece things together- like the fact that he was in the lab, and Lucie laughed from across a table, holding a cup of what looked to be coffee. The mute signal sat in the corner of the screen, and Steve tilted his head in question as he set the glasses of water down on an end table. Looking down he noticed for the first time Lucie sat not on the couch, but on the floor, hugging her knees.

"How long have you been there?" he asked, quietly, though he received no answer. "Lucie?" Kneeling down next to her, he instantly realized two things. First, she was sleeping. The second, her flesh was covered in goose bumps.

Steve righted himself and went to the linen closet, from which he pulled a soft spare blanket. Returning to her sleeping form, the screen had changed; Lucie and Bruce now stood on the roof of Stark Tower, still talking. He sat next to her and unfolded the blanket, draping it over their laps as he did so. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake up. When she was covered, he took the remote and turned the noise on at a low level.

"…he's really nice," Lucie was telling Bruce, smiling.

"Well, 'really nice' is something you call a friendly stranger, not a close friend," he said, sweeping her hair to one side and blowing on her now exposed neck; she laughed and pushed him away.

"Don't be mean, I hate it when you do that," she said, fighting a smile that told Steve she was lying. "But I guess you're right…" She let the smile win as she looked down at the city below.

He smiled, and looked away from her. "I'm glad you have him, in case anything happens…"

"What do you mean?" Lucie frowned.

"If I ever have to leave, I know Steve will take care of you. I won't even have to ask him and I won't have to worry about you. And Steve…he'll help you move on."

Lucie rolled her eyes and elbowed him, smiling. "I don't know what you're talking about, but if you leave I'll just follow you. You can't hide from me, Mr. Banner." She took his face in her hand and turned him to look at her. "Besides, who says I'd want to move on?"

Bruce smiled and leaned down, and Steve quickly averted his gaze the current Lucie, as he suddenly felt as if he was invading something private; her eyes were open now, and she stared intently at the screen. A tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn't seem to notice.

Steve reached over and brushed the tear away with his thumb. She flinched at his touch, but didn't push him away; instead, her eyes briefly met his and she rested her head on his shoulder. She took the remote from his lap and muted it again, though Steve still looked at her rather than the screen.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he apologized.

"Don't worry about it," she said with a tired voice. "I should be going home soon anyways."

Steve smiled when she didn't move, but it quickly left his face. This wasn't the first time she cried in front of him, but it was the first time he felt at fault, and hopeless to fix it. It reminded him of being a boy, unable to serve his country or even his own mother. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, but the simple gesture felt useless against her pain. She leaned into him more, knocking their knees together, but Steve felt guilty and moved his slightly away.

"You know…Bruce practically gave us permission just there…" Lucie said quietly.

Steve swallowed, hesitating. "He didn't mean it."

"How would you know?" she questioned.

Steve sighed, and finally took his eyes off Lucie; she now sat with Bruce in the living room of Stark Tower. "I remember how he looked at you. And how you looked at him. That kind of love… It doesn't happen often. He really loved you."

She pulled away from him, eyes locked on the screen. "I'm tired of people saying that."

"It's the truth, Lucie-"

"No. It's not the truth." Her voice shook, but she kept her focus on the screen. "If he really loved me he wouldn't have left. He would have stuck by my side instead of leaving you to do the work for him. He would have tried to help me wake up faster. He would have tried to help me remember. If he really loved me, it wouldn't be you wiping away my tears in your living room. Leaving someone like that…that's not what you do when you love them."

Steve reached for her and pulled him towards her; she willingly went to him, burying her face in his chest. He stroked her hair with one hand while she held the other to her chest, tears streaming openly down her cheeks. "He left because he couldn't bear to see you die."

"But I didn't die! I'm still here and I barely know what's going on!" She punched Steve, but it did no more than startle him. "I hate this! Why the hell would I ever say those words, Steve? Why would I promise to follow him? Or let him touch me like that? I see it too, the way he looked at me, I see the way I even looked at him, but I don't get it! I don't feel anything when I see his name in my files or see his face in these videos. Tony said I'd remember, but I feel like I'm watching a soap opera! And when you guys say something, Steve- I just- I don't understand! It's all so frustrating." He continued stroking her hair as she wept, his cheek pressed to her head. "And now I'm ruining your shirt," she said as her tears began to run out.

Steve chuckled, rubbing her back. "Don't worry about it. Are you okay?"

Lucie pulled away from him, sniffed, and rubbed her eyes. "I will be. I'm sorry I'm such a wreck."

He smiled, brushing a spare tear from her cheek, letting his finger linger only a moment longer than it needed to. "Don't worry about it, Miss. What kind of hero would I be if I couldn't help a damsel in distress?" What kind, indeed.

She punched him again, but this one was lighter than the last. "I think damsels are supposed to be saintly. I don't exactly qualify for that."

"Maybe if you went to church…" he started, but dropped their old joke.

Lucie tilted her head in question. "Hmm?"

Steve shook his head, ignoring the feeling of his heart sinking. "Nothing, it's nothing." She eyed him suspiciously and he smiled. "It's nothing," he repeated, standing up. He offered a hand to her, and she took it.

"Well, fine, for now." She straightened her clothes a little, then Steve's. "But maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea." His heart skipped a single beat as she sighed thoughtfully and looked up at him; maybe this new Lucie would be his chance to properly move on from Peggy… but even as he thought her name, he knew Lucie could never fill that hole. "What do you think?"

He picked his next words carefully, keeping Bruce in mind. He'd always pushed her, but if they started doing things like church together, things one did with their family, he wasn't sure where things would go, regardless of Peggy. He didn't want anything getting in the way of his ability to carry out their mission, either. "A lot of people pick up religion after they go through a traumatic event. Maybe it's not such a bad idea."

"Hmm… Do you go to church, Steve?"

She'd even forgotten that much.

"I went just this morning."

She turned and started for the door, pulling Steve along by the hand. "Well, take me next week then."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And stop being so formal, Steve."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Steve."

"Ma'am?"

"You make me feel old when you do that."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am."

"Lucie."

"You talk to yourself now? I know you're confused about things lately, but if you're talking to yourself like that, I think you should see a proper doctor," he said without thinking much of it.

She stopped in front of the door, taking her keys from the hook. "Now where am I supposed to find a doctor that can fix me up so well?" she asked, smiling.

"Well, if I may," he started as he realized the opportunity, "I know a fairly good doctor in South America who might be able to help."

Her eyes widened at what that might mean. "Really?"

Steve nodded sincerely. "He's pretty great."

"Well maybe we should go see him then instead of going to church next week." Steve smiled. He knew it was too good to be true.

"Maybe. You promised to follow him, so maybe it's time."

She tilted her head, frowning as she realized what he meant. "So he's in South America, huh? Well, I'm not going if it's just to meet him."

"Why not? Everyone thinks it's a good idea. The only reason he's not here is because he thinks you're dead and he's ashamed to see your family. If he knew you were fine, I knew he'd do anything to help you."

She looked down at her keys, her fingers fumbling with the chain; it was a silver flower, embedded with small crystals. "Bruce gave me this, right?" she asked quietly.

Steve nodded. "Your first birthday as an actual 'couple.'" The fact that she kept it on her keys was a constant reminder she was Bruce's girl, and even if she started dating or went back to Bethany, she would forever be tied back to him.

She smiled at it. "You know, I remember some things about him. Mostly I remember being happy with him… But I don't feel it now. That's what scares me so much. What if I'm not capable of that anymore? I'd just be lying to him…"

Steve crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, taking a breath. "Well, I guess we're just going to have to be honest with him, then. Tell him the truth; you don't feel that way anymore. But I think you owe it to him to at least try." He smirked, but it was directed more towards himself. "You owe it to you."

"Me?" she asked.

"You've put yourself through so much. If anyone can make you happy, it's him. Tell me, Lucie, why did you come here today?"

She hesitated, not looking at Steve. "I didn't want to be a burden at Tony's anymore."

"So, what's wrong with your place?"

She hesitated. "It's filled with him…"

"And Tony's isn't?"

She shook her head. "At Tony's, I don't remember anything unless I go in his room. Sure, I watch the videos all day, but that's all they are: videos. Clips. Bits and pieces. But no feelings. But at my place… We shared so much there, and I actually remember the emotions connected to it."

Steve thought for a moment, choosing his next words. "I think you need to stop running from the feelings and embrace them."

"You think?"

Steve nodded.

"When did you become the therapist?" she asked, smiling.

"When did you become the one so lost and confused?" he shot back.

"Mmm…. How long ago did I wake up?"

He glanced at the clock: 11:46. "Four months, two weeks, six days ago tomorrow."

"Then four months, two weeks, and five days ago today."

Steve rustled her hair and she smacked his hand away. "Go home, Lucie. It's late. Do you want me to walk you?"

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around him. "No, I'll go. Thank you, Steve."

He returned the embrace. "Don't worry about it. Things will get better. They did for me, I'm sure they will for you."

"You know…let's still go to church next week. I'm not ready to see him yet."

He pressed his cheek to the top of her head again. "Okay. Whatever you want."

He felt Lucie take a breath against him. "You know, in all those videos, he's never said it."

"Said what?"

"Those three magic words." She shifted her hold on him, and Steve wondered what she could mean. "I love you."

Steve held her at arm's length. "I'm sure you just forgot."

"What kind of a person forgets that kind of thing?" she asked, smiling sadly.

"The kind of person who can sleep for a year like it's nothing," he teased.

"Well if someone can sleep for seventy, I think I should be able to handle one a little better than this," she shot back.

"What can I say?" Steve stretched, flexing in a mock-show-off way. "When you've been shot up with drugs, it does wonders."

Lucie rolled her eyes and turned to the door. "Maybe I should get a hit of that stuff."

Steve laughed. "They say it's all gone, but even if it weren't I wouldn't allow it."

"Why not?" she challenged. "What's the worse that can happen?"

"I don't know," he said, crossing his arms as he smiled bitterly. "You have to go through the terrors of war, you fall asleep for seventy years, when you wake up everyone is either dead or dying." He laughed once at the sympathy forming on her face. "Or you know, the very worse I can think of is you end up with a body like mine. That would just be a waste of a lady."

Lucie laughed as Steve opened the door for her. "Well if I had such a perfect body I could skip all this training with Natasha. She's terrifying when she's coming at you in combat mode."

He chuckled as he went to the coat closet. "Nah, girls are meant to be a little soft, not rocks like men. Though I'll admit, Natasha Romanoff can be terrifying, but don't hold back." He took one of his jackets out and went back to Lucie, draping it around her shoulders as he spoke. "It's getting cold out. There are gloves in the pockets if your hands get cold."

"Thanks, Steve," she said with a smile as she stepped into the hall. "You really take care of me too much."

"Well, you're so stubborn about the cold, always underdressed. Someone has to watch out for you, or you'd go into a coma again from hypothermia," he said, brushing off his kindness that he thought was the social norm, or at least still ought to be. "And since the leading man seems to have left the field, the understudy has to step in."

"Steve?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

He smiled. "You're welcome. Goodnight, Lucie."

She started to leave, but stopped. "Steve?"

"Yes?" he asked again.

"I love you."

He inhaled, taking it in. "I love you, too, Lucie. But don't get confused about us. You don't look at me the way you looked at Bruce."

Lucie smiled as she turned away from him. "Maybe. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Lucie," he said again.

When she was out of sight, he closed the door and locked both bolts; usually he left one open so Lucie could get in, but she didn't have a key for the second, and he didn't exactly want her coming back tonight. He cleaned up the living room, returning the untouched glasses to the kitchen and the blanket to the linen closet. When he was done, he sat on the couch and watched Lucie and Bruce live around Stark Tower. If he had videos of Peggy like these, he'd have wasted his life away watching them as much as Lucie was. The simple fact was just another factor to why he couldn't let Lucie get confused.

And yet…

"Bruce," he scoffed. "What are you doing? How could you give her up so easily?"


End file.
